Chikura: desolation and despair
by JoSav
Summary: There is more than meets the eye... A Dragon Ball history like you've never seen before. Encompasses missing parts that you didn't see in the show! [Vejiita, Lunch, Tenshinhan, 17 and more] This is a unique fanfic. [summary inside]
1. Prior to Reading

SUMMARY:

There is more than meets the eye. Is the world free from evil now that Goku left with Shenlon? Is the world safe?

Why did Vejiita settle down with Bulma? Is Goku a lousy father because all he ever thinks about is food and combat? Is Goku just an idiot unaware of his actions? And what is he aware of anyway?  
What happened to Android 17? Is he happy? Is he miserable? Will he ever see his sister again?  
Why won't Gohan and Videl have a second child? Why won't 18 and Kuririn?

What happened to Lunch and Tenshinhan? What happened to Piccolo? Did he give up on his wish to take over the world? Will Uub really become more powerful than Goku? Is he really Goku's heir? What about Goten? What about Trunks? What about Goten and Trunks? Will their friendship survive? Why is Bura born? Will Pan ever grow up? Does Paresu stand any chance to become Goten's steady girlfriend?  
There are so many questions!  
And I plan to answer them all. Ha.

(I plan to answer questions about Mirai Trunks, too. But that is in a different story).

DISCLAIMER AND GUIDELINE:

I intended to introduce new characters that are believable and real. I wouldn't dream of bothering you with a Mary Sue who will run off with the hottie and steal the show. I'm not a moron. I'm a professional writer. I intend to not make any rookie mistakes. Correct me if I'm wrong. It's the only way I can learn from mistakes.

Enjoy reading this. However, be patient. This story does not take off where Toriyama left off literally. This story will use what he created to fill out blanks and in the end continue where Toriyama left off. That means you'll have to be patient before Vejiita, Goku, Trunks, Goten and others will take the leading role. A lot needs to be filled in first or you won't get any of it later. Don't let this sway you. And if you don't believe me scroll to later chapters and see for yourself.

I claim no rights to Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z or any of its associated characters or intellectual properties. Hail Toriyama-sensei, creator of the same. There, I said it.

Keep in mind that I did invest a lot of time and money into the fandom and into writing these stories.  
Storyline and characters introduced/developed in DBU have been created by JoSav and in context and intellectual property belong to JoSav. I do not make any money off of this, nor do I intend to.

All writing belongs to myself. I have already seen several of my plotlines and works adapted and stolen, popping up in several other fanfics. It wouldn't hurt me half as much if people would simply give me credit. Ah well, you can't have everything. Don't bother me with nonsense such as 'you stole this and this idea' because this story has been online and in the works for many years.

I apologize beforehand for any spelling errors or grammatical mistakes. English is my third language.

JoSav


	2. The Light In Your Eyes

DRAGON BALL U  
Chikura: desolation and despair  
By JoSav

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_"You realize, of course, that I'm utterly going to humiliate you, Kakarotto." _

---A Saiyajin Heritage. Section 14: "Saiyajin Wit"---

_"The light in your eyes is what keeps me going." _

---Hope! The past cannot be changed? A chronicle of Trunks, the man who saved the world. Ch. 2: "Bulma Briefs."---

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**PREFACE I**  
**"The Light In Your Eyes"**

**Rating: T**

_Indifferent to the senselessness of everything  
You stand in shadows staring back at me and I catch  
Your breath is cold, pushing me away from the things I used to care  
For give me something more than stating the  
Obviously you're nothing but the desire inside of me I feel  
obliged to laugh at the insignificance of your imagery_

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Bulma watched her son carefully, leaning on the edge of the wooden crib. She was happy enough, although the father of her child had had no interest in her in close to a year, and it would likely take her another two and a half months of strict dieting before she'd have her old figure back – if she was ever going to have her figure back in the first place.

The room was barely lit. She didn't particularly mind. She didn't know how long she'd been staring at the tiny person in that wooden crib and frankly, she couldn't care less. This teeny tiny person was her son, and the feelings that had washed over her the moment their eyes had met for the first time was one she was unable to describe.

"Trunks," she whispered into the dark. "My Trunks." She wanted to thank the Gods for allowing her to find out what it was like to be a mother. She would never have guessed it felt this damn good. But she had to admit she was afraid as well.

Was she going to have to raise this child by herself? Would the boy's father ever so much as lay eyes upon their son? She didn't know. All she knew was that this feeling was beyond anything the Gods could give or take from her. Beyond anything that ass Vejiita – the child's father – could ever make her feel.

Trunks opened his baby-blue eyes and looked at his mother. In that moment, Bulma saw a wisdom in those eyes she could never have imagined and for a while she thought she hadn't seen it in the first place. The boy reached out to her and she caressed his flushed cheeks. The glint in his eyes was gone and Bulma blamed the fading sunlight.

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There is one being above all other. A single creature which origin is shrouded in mystery. It is what one truly refers to when speaking of God, like so many of us do. Do we seek His approval to find some sort of illumination or insight, or do we do such out of mere selfish motive in hopes of finding a place in Heaven? Do we truly desire to go to Heaven? Do we believe in God? One can only guess, except for this God for He knows All.

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Son Goten was a special boy, ChiChi knew. The moment she had held him in his arms, she had known. She looked down to him, sleeping in her arms as she rocked back and forth gently, in the chair her other son had built for her. Her older son was studying in the other room, her youngest lay asleep in her arms. Goten, she had called him, named after the heavens where the child's father resided. Goku was dead, but ChiChi could see so much of him in their newborn son. The look in the boy's eyes did not betray any wisdom or understanding but showed a glorious future nonetheless. ChiChi knew it was the naiveté of a mother to think her son would one day come to great things but ChiChi was convinced Goten would go even beyond that. There was a radiance in his eyes she couldn't quite explain and for a moment she thought Goku reached out to her through those eyes, to have it fade only an instant later. She was unable to hold back her tears, and ChiChi knew Son Goten would one day surpass even his celebrated father.

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But this God is not to be taken lightly for He is all that is, what was and what will be.

God of All, the Highest Dragon Murass, forged a world to live in. This Surreal World is nowhere near what you and I can imagine. It is nothing like the Real. In this place no trees grow, no creatures dwell.

Murass created all that is. Murass created you and I. And Murass provided each and every one of us with a gift and a curse. Is it mere irony that both gift and curse are exactly the same?

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_every hour, every breath, every time I get away from a indolent  
sort of compassion I know you're laughing but I cannot see  
pulling a cover over my head I do not  
care and I watch you slip away from me you've  
gone missing in the shape of an empty crowd_

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The night was black. Vejiita looked at the small boy that lay awake, his blue eyes looking back into his dark, brazen stare. He didn't say a word but the wheels in his head turned and turned, and turned. His son. His son? His son, a weakling, a weeping, sleeping, helpless – puny little brat. His son. This boy carried on a Saiyajin lineage that went back ages. But Vejiita had not been sure whether this boy would be worthy to carry such heritage. Would this brat be worthy of the name Vejiita? Something in the boy's stare told him yes, but Vejiita wasn't ready to admit it.

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One would never call Murass a mysterious, ethereal creature would one understand His motives. For it was Murass who grew bored and henceforth flipped a coin. Heads, I win. Tails, you lose. And as the insignificant coin rolled over on one side, Murass forged a creature from wholesome darkness. I'm sorry, Light, Murass is said to have spoken, but you lose. From darkness alone, Murass crafted a creature that was different from any other being. This being could not create. The Hakaisha, the Destroyer, could do nothing but destroy and Murass watched in wonder at the curious havoc it wreaked across Reality, leaving more darkness and more destruction in its path as time progressed, forging only more ruin from the evil it produced.

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Goku was now in the world beyond the Real, lingering happily in one of eight divinations of the Surreal. Humans called it the afterlife, Goku didn't really care what it was called and was in no way restricted in his existence. Had he not been dead, Goku would not have noticed any difference. However, there was one thing he wished for, something that was beyond his grasp to control from the other world. For Goku did not dwell in the Real, could not go back to the Real. The only place the dead had in Reality was in the memories of those they had left behind. Goku had never seen his newborn son but felt strangely connected to him, understanding his child's destiny lay beyond that of the Real. What that meant, Goku did not know.

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Light beseeched for a restoration of an age-old balance. "Lord Murass," she entreated her Master, "Darkness is broadened even beyond the grasp of us Dragons. The light is fading."

"Worry not," the God of All had replied with a wicked smile. "You'll find your Saviour soon." From the light that was fading, Murass brought forth the Saviour, the Kyuusaisha.

It was the beginning of an endless fight between light and darkness, good and evil.

And it would take but a thousand years before the Hakaisha and Kyuusaisha would oppose one another for the very first time. Saviour and Destroyer fought an epic battle on the Dori Star, in the far away regions of the Southern Galaxy. Light would ask for too much after the destruction the Hakaisha left in its path, blowing up Light's most precious star.

"Master," Light spoke boldly to her godly Creator. "The light isn't bright enough, the light is too weak to prevail. Darkness has no right to claim my stars, my light."

God laughed an ethereal laugh. How could one bother the Highest of All with trivial things such as the destruction of a mere star? In his unbridled fury, Murass split the Saviour in two, in hopes of teaching the light a valuable lesson. "The bigger the light," Murass told his Child, "the bigger its shadow becomes. Your Dori Star was a big, bright star. You should know by now, love, that every big star will eventually collapse and become a Black Hole, a source of darkness that pulls in everything near. You shouldn't feel so bothered losing your big bright Dori Star. It's the smaller stars that will always continue to shine, no matter how small they will eventually be. Their shadow will only grow smaller and they will never become black holes." Again, God laughed an ethereal laugh. "Do not underestimate a weak light."

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_These days I reach out and push, pushing over and over_

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From the moment Trunks and Goten looked into each other's eyes they knew their friendship was beyond the earthly and would last forever.

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Is the Saviour forever gone? Is it but a matter of time before the Destroyer will rise beyond the grasp of even Murass? Only God knows, as only the Highest knows All. But the present is intertwined with both past and future. Only God knows All.

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_Goodbye for now I left you behind  
I'm not even close to feeling sorry for  
You're just like everybody else_

_  
_---JoSav 2004, "Just Like You"---

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Author's Note: What is the light in their eyes? What does it mean?

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	3. The One You Can't Ignore

_"One who thinks the "Real" is all there is, is but a fool. For, apart from the elusive amount of varieties of the Real, there is the Inner World. The World of what was, what will be, of what should be. Set as the original home of the Kaioushin, Kaiou's and other higher beings..." _

"The Inner World is seen as the Place of Origin of the Kyuusaisha and the Hakaisha. A World different from how you and I see her.

_And once you realize how vast this other world is, you can come to terms with your own terminology and insignificance. Once you've accepted this, nothing obscures your path to greatness." _

---Interpretations of the Real. Ch. 1: "What Lies Beneath"---

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**PREFACE II**  
**"The One You Can't Ignore"**

**Rating: T**

_Think you can control me  
You are simply weak  
Think you can outsmart me  
You are but a fool  
Nothing can overcome me  
For I am Lucifer  
I am eternity  
I am all there is  
And everything that'll be_

_  
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Long before the world as she lies before you in full glory even existed, I was. While your ancestors swung around in trees and ate nuts and berries, barely able to outsmart primitive predators such as wolves and lions, I was.  
When the first creatures crawled out of the sea onto the land, I was.  
Even before your ball of rock, water and gas, you name Chikyuu, had even begun forming out of the chaos that spawned it, I was.  
Who am I, you ask?  
I am.  
I am the Hakaisha, the Destroyer.

Brought into existence by the Highest of All, it was soon ascertained I was superior. So be Him, Judge of the Tribunal of Life and Death, Lord of All, Master of Light and Dark. So be Him, the Higher Dragon Murass. Murass decided, Murass punished and Murass guided.

So be I, Bringer of Chaos, Bearer of Desolation and Despair, Sum of All Things Death Bound. So be I, the Hakaisha. The Hakaisha, who dances upon the Grave of Existence, allocating Destruction onto the Worlds, returning All to the Nothing whence it came.

For long have I dwindled about, dwelling in a reality that bore nothing but destruction for me. I was never aboded for much of anything except to please My Master.

My corruption and malevolence hidden for long, the Highest was not easily swindled.

For there is one thing I need to reach beyond the spirit world that seeded me. I need a body.

Henceforth I am in search of hosts, and steal their soul. In my despondency, I am in search of a creature noble and stalwart enough to sustain my long existence.

Known in the Real as Thief of Souls, I am revered and feared all-round.

In quest of a faultless host in this Outer World, I have been many: Thrakan, Nameckuseijin, Darsian, Allurian. I've even been Saiyajin.  
But there is one thing the Highest did not hold into account. For the Real corrupts even the purest of creatures; it corrupts even the Dragons. And so I have found a perfect host.

The infinite era of my reign has finally begun. Time to rule the Worlds.

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_Think you can defy me  
Who do you take me for?  
Certain you can deny me  
It is you I will ignore  
Nothing can overcome me  
For I am God  
I am eternity  
I am everything's core  
I am all there will be  
And so very much more_

_  
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Born out of need, created to stop evil, I became the spine of the Inner World to halt extension and augment of iniquity. Veiled in delusion of aptness and decorum I knew sin was amongst us, within the compounds and core of us spirited ones it grew and thrived, contaminating all within its grasp.

I failed because the Light wasn't bright enough. I failed, and the Highest tore me apart. Even so, he provided me with second venture.

Murass spoke, overflowing all essence with trepidation and awe as he threw into existence the Bringer of Harmony, Bearer of Ecstasy and Bliss, Sum of All Things Life Bound. So be I, the Kyuusaisha.

Split in two, it was long before I found my other half. Only by uniting with the creature Murass had conceived of for the occasion solely, could I stop the Hakaisha. Eager as I was to prove worthy, I sought, hence found.

This one event had brought forth man. Its dome was Chikyuu, a World of Blue and Green, a World of Peace centred in a fervent Ocean of Chaos.

It is where I found her at long last. As, She was beautiful, to say the least. Primitive, yes, but oh so perfect. She was the first of her basic kind, a Human, so pure.

Yet again, I failed and the World corrupted. I had dissatisfied My Master a second time. Murass was not pleased. Murass learned in that very moment what it meant to be disappointed. Could it be that darkness was actually stronger than the light?

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A man lay dying by the shore, his intestines punctured and scattered with whatever dark power. The wound was mortal. The man however, was long hardened by warfare, hunting his nemesis in the Name of His Master. His death would be slow. But he would not survive his enemy's woe. Young as he was, he would die.

His Master came up to him in all His Magnificence. "Again you have fallen short, Jousen." He spoke.

"Yes My Master," the man replied, "I beg Thee Forgiveness, let me suffer for my failure."

In all His Benevolence, His Master looked down at him. "You have done more than I could have expected. The Kyuusaisha does not exist."

The man was struck down with an insight he had refused to see from the initial point he was granted the honour to fend for Balance and Life, in the Name of His Master. His failure had been in his rooted belief he was the Saviour; the failure had been in his gut.

The Kyuusaisha had never been. Jousen, as he lay dying by the shore, had never believed in his cause. Thus, Jousen had failed.

His Master cast inferno upon him and split his forsaken soul in two.

A woman lay in a velvet field, breathing in rasps, as she was soon to breathe no more. Discord had been thrust through her heart, tearing her up from the inside. And even now, she refused to let go of martyr as her goal was still to be met. Foolish and innocent as she was, she would die.

Her Master came up to her in all His Magnificence. "For your lack of belief, you have paid a price, Yaviss." He said.

"Yes My Master," the woman replied, "I beg Thee Forgiveness. I am a mere Mortal given the task of King and Deity. Let me suffer for my failure."

In all His Divinity, Her Master granted her a smile. "Only One does not bring Concord. You have done well. Conversely, the Kyuusaisha has never been."

Without question, the woman knew her failure had been from within.

She had lacked the belief one single Mortal could achieve more than a King in a lifetime or a Deity in all eternity. She had lacked belief she was greater than Mortality, higher than Royalty, and grander than the Gods Themselves. She had lacked heart.

The Kyuusaisha had never been. Yaviss, as she lay dying in a velvet field, had never believed in herself. Thus, Yaviss had failed.

Her Master cast inferno upon her and split her forsaken soul in two.

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Nothing is less relenting than pure chaos, Murass soon experienced. The worlds were slowly coming apart. Guardian Dragons, Seeking Dragons and Reaching Dragons all the same had failed in keeping concord amongst themselves. The Real grew into a place of mortality, darkness and fright. And Murass did not take it lightly. The Dragons became mortal. The dragons were dragons no more, only in legend, only somewhere hidden in their now mortal hearts.

But to prove he was not all work and no play, Murass rewarded mortals in their chaste battle versus the darkness. For the Nameckuseijin fought a valiant war against not only the ill willing Saiyajin but the corrupted Dragons as well. Their bravery produced the confinement of the last two Eternal Dragons, the last immortal of their kind, the last that tried everything in their might to hold on to concord. And so the Dragon Balls were created, capturing the dragon of strength and the dragon of love, capturing both Shenlon and Porunga.

But there was yet another dragon, the Highest of All. Whether He, too, was connected to any Dragon Balls might remain a mystery forever. Sole mystery that dwells here is the one who hosts the soul of destruction, the one who bears the seal of the Destroyer. Where is the Destroyer?

It is but a matter of time before the Hakaisha will show himself and tear down everything the light once held dear.

If only the Saviour were near. If only there was any light left. Perhaps there was. Perhaps the light had not yet faded completely. Perhaps there is a light in your eyes that will keep us all going. Of course, the Kaioushin had something to do with it. Don't they always?

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_When I display my strength  
The world shall tremble  
When you conjure up my wrath  
The people will weep  
When you try to outlive me  
Everyone will die  
For I am God  
And I am Lucifer  
I am Shiva  
Or whoever else you like  
I am the one you won't forget  
I shall guide you in the dance  
Of never ending life and death  
Now come and dance this dance with me  
I'm sure you won't regret. _

---JoSav 2001, "The One You Can't Ignore"---

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Author's Note: On to the first tale of Dragon Ball U: the saga of Light and Dark.

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	4. Tale 1 Death Lurks

_"There is no true definition of a hero.  
One is not judged by sheer strength but by determination and unselfishness of the heart and soul. _

No matter the desolation, no matter the despair, a hero never gives up on one thing in particular: hope.  
If one single individual can make a difference, there's always a chance of triumph."

---The Great War of Redemption. Pt2 (The people of Chikura-sei), Ch. 6: "Why we never gave up"---

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**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale One ---Death Lurks--- **  
Rating: T**

_Choose your destiny  
And choose your track  
But better be careful  
For you will see  
There is absolutely no way back  
Behind you the path will crumble  
And there will be no return_

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It had been almost two Chikyuu centuries since the Saiyajin had drifted ashore on the distant planet Prant, however, it had taken them until now to unite under the rule of an apt army commander named Vejiita.

Although it was said that lord Vejiita had descended from the Super Saiyajin who was named Vejiita and had wreaked havoc during the Great War, few Saiyajin believed in such fortuity, among them Vejiita himself. Vejiita was the main instigator of the all-out war against the Tsufuru, Prant's original inhabitants. The Tsufuru-jin were overrun by the powerful, bloodthirsty Saiyajin that had been unified under Lord Vejiita's flag. Within a few years, the flag of the House of Vejiita flew and fluttered proudly over most of what used to be Tsufuru cities.

The House of Vejiita soon reigned over all but insignificant Tsufuru trenches. There was one last stronghold to be taken by the Saiyajin; the Fortress of Lychee. Doctor Lychee and his following would not go down without one last fight and so preparations were made on both sides, preparations for one final war, the war that would shape the fate of all inhabitants of Prant-sei.

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The night was cool as a gentle breeze whispered over the land, sighing and bringing the mystic scent of Arlu-blossoms with it. A vast lake centred in an almost infinite valley of scarlet flowers, cerulean meadows and large evergreen trees covered in pallid white of sleek fragrant bloom, sprawled in outlook of a regal citadel and far beyond its precincts.

Chiva had always loved that gentle scent of the blooming Arlu, as she stood near the open window, worrying.  
How could her spouse, King Vaerr, sleep at these times of despair?  
There was a lot of uncertainty concerning the future of the Chikura-jin.

Murk of night boded for nothing, black and inept with life, not even the brightness of stars enlightened the woman with knowledge of what fate lay before them. Her people had been struck down one by one almost randomly. No Healer, no medicine, not even prayer could save them. Once infected, one would die shortly after. Not only that, none of the imperial scientists and physicians could determine what had caused such malady to overcome mighty creatures descended from Dragons, and many had even begun to believe it was punishment from the Higher Dragon and His Ancestry.

The tall and slender woman sighed, small strands of her pitch-black hair, broken free from her severe braid, dancing on the almost soothing rhythm of the wind. Her dark braid ended in a sharp tip just above her buttocks, ebon hair that glistened with health, indicating Chiva had not been infected. Yet.  
She turned towards the tall window again, its frames enriched with impressive wooden carvings narrative of ancient tales that were now more myth than history, dismissed as sheer folklore. Fastidious figurines of carved dragons and soaring creatures none had ever seen or perceived, revering on glorious times of yore. Wooden flowers, sky and might that wielded up all the way to the fresco embedded ceiling, telling tales of Mortals Amongst Dragons, the Eternal Guardians and those ordered in service of the Highest of All, King to Dragons, as they were all His Creation.

She looked into the dark, flawless sky, distant stars and galaxies faint luminosity in an infinite sea of sole darkness, a blanket that covered the heavens, tucking it in with obscurity that adjoined the gloom cast upon the natives themselves, anything that might remind of the moons black and unseen.

Chiva Ryuujin, progeny of the God of Dragons, worried. She knew not what to do to save her people. If only her father had still been alive but ever since Chikurajin had wandered off the Path, their Lord Murass had advised them to follow, none lived over two hundred. Her father, King Amnii, had died at the age of one-hundred-and-forty-two, seven years after Chiva had been born. She sometimes wondered if she had been too young to understand the vastness of her father's wisdom but Chiva knew she remembered him righteously, the way he should have been remembered, not an old ailing man.

He would have known what to do in such times. He would have been able to placate the people of Chikura-sei with hope and prospect.

Chiva however, young as she was, wasn't certain of anything. The urge for her to bring salvation upon her people was burning endlessly in her heart but truth be told, she could not release her fire.

As she stood there, fearing what the future might bring Chikurajin, whisperings of infant voices touched her apt hearing. She smiled ruefully upon recognizing the mild speech of her two children standing in the doorway.

"_Kaachan_…" One of the children started to say. "Gular-san told me our people is bound for desolation, is that true?" The tiny girl, for a girl she was, fretted around nervously, her tot face radiated with an almost adult looking sense of anxiety. "And what is that, desolation?"

Uyra was Chiva's youngest child, her pale haired daughter. And despite distinction in hair color as avid as day was differed from night, the toddler resembled her mother greatly even at such young age.

"Uyra-chan, don't worry about such a thing," the woman replied without turning away from the window. "All things come to an end, but every end is the beginning of something new and even greater than what was. Life is long and rich and for you, it has only just begun."

The pale haired girl seemed puzzled, yet young as she was, Uyra understood more than one would expect, Chiva knew.

The infant giggled and stuck out her tongue addressing her brother. "I told you Gular-san, Chikura don't die. Told you…"

"Mom, I don't understand," protested the girl's sibling as he made a step towards his mother, "I overheard you and _Otousan_ talking about it. I heard it myself when you said there was no hope for us, I know you did," Gular responded in a carp tone of voice, trying to reassure himself he had actually heard properly, as he had.

Ignoring her son's last remark, Chiva was quick to catch her children's further protest, her words spoken firmly though careful not to wake her husband. "Uyra, Gular, back to bed before you wake your father."

The children knew she meant for them to not talk of it any further, and without sulking or asking additional questions, they turned and stepped out of the doorway, going back to their warm beds.  
Queen Chiva sighed and seemed even more worried than before.

_My poor children, what will become of you? Our people are dying with hunger and disease; almost all are struck down by this mysterious illness, not only youngsters or elderly people. We were once such proud people. What will become of us and furthermore, what can be done?_

She turned and watched her sleeping husband, the King, carefully.  
She removed some loose strands of hair from her face and sighed once more.

_What can I do?_

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Vejiita was a tactician the likes none had seen in a very long time. There was no wonder he was compared to the parentage of yore. Lord Vejiita devised a red herring, a diversion to deceive the Tsufuru and their leader, Dr. Lychee.

One of Vejiita's most apposite for the task of leading the diversionary manoeuvre was Yam, a female lieutenant officer. Yam knew the diversion would likely lead to her death and the death of her militia but Yam did not seem to mind much. Any Saiyajin would be proud to lead such honourable undertaking in Lord Vejiita's name.

It was the night before the start of the operation. Preparations were all but ready and Yam scrutinized Vejiita from across the fire in the centre of the gorge where they had set up camp a couple days ago. She laughed, and poked the raw meat that was slowly roasting over the fire. She was getting hungry.

Vejiita sat up, looking at her. The light of the fire danced in her hair, making it look more red than it actually was. Her hair wasn't very dark, especially for a Saiyajin and it gave the impression she was not born in the high ranking and esteem she was held in these days of war. The truth told a different story for it was Yam who was an elite Saiyajin, unlike Vejiita. Something about her features betrayed an almost un-Saiyajin distress, worry perhaps. It was merely because of her high standing that she was a leading officer and not just a skilled second-class soldier. Again, she snickered, as if sensing his thoughts.

"What is it?" he said in a low voice.

"Not much," she replied. "It's the calm before the storm."

"And?" Vejiita snorted.

Yam shook her head, laughing humourlessly under her breath. Vejiita never cared much for the chances of dying or any other downfall. Vejiita was as fearless as he was stupid. It was his uncanny strategic knowledge that had gotten him this far. There was no doubt he knew that tomorrow's operation was one more hazardous than any they had ever undertaken. She liked it.

"That means it's getting late," she said. "The moon is almost full. Tomorrow night will be something else, that's for sure."

"Something else?" Vejiita retorted, sullen. "What's so different about Oozaru crushing Tsufuru under their foot?"

"It is their last stronghold, Vejiita," Yam said as she tore off a leg from the meat that was half-cooked, the way she liked it best. "Doctor Lychee is not to be taken lightly."

At that, Vejiita laughed. He hadn't laughed like this in a long time. Yam was always able to cheer even his darkest moods. Yam in turn showed him a bitter, repugnant grin. Clearly, Vejiita was joking, right? Right?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Many Chikurajin had forgotten about their glorious past, shrugging off history as mere myth and legend. Their pride obscured them to see things as they were. Chikurajin were the Children of Murass, the Higher Dragon's most beloved. Chikurajin were the cradle of the Eternal Dragon, Chikurajin were the Mortals Amidst Dragons.

Time never yielded to Black Death, as the illness was soon to be called. Instead, number of victims grew explosively, casualties and infected were banished and sent in quarantine as far away as possible, beyond the King's will or bidding. Panic had overtaken most of Chikura's denizens, none knew how to escape Black Death's grasp. Those banished were driven to the distant outskirts of Sah G'narr, a valley behind Mount Oozianula in the North District of Chikura-sei. Sah G'narr, home of harsh humid winters and hot arid summers.

Most never made it; Death called upon them before they had even left their abodes.

Smell of death, decay and decomposition, smell of combustion and aflame buildings covered the land with despair. Burning cities were now sole option the Chikurajin could think of to ban the disease. Chikura-sei burned and people wept.

In the southern plain of T'ux Macurr, a lone and prodigious citadel erected from out of nowhere, portal to a vast city that was mostly spared from dire bereavement that had already fallen upon most of Chikura-sei. But not even Vizz-Uhn, as the city itself was called, was entirely safe from Black Death's clutches, none of Chikura-sei was.

Young Gular sat in the windowsill, looking out over the palace gardens. Nothing of the landscape betrayed in what awful state the planet was, for in these parts of Chikura-sei the scent of death was not part of the landscape yet. Trees, small forest creatures and water endless in its own salvation, never atoned for what was happening to the world, guilty of shirking, guilty of ignoring the pain Chikura's fellow inhabitants were in.

Gular sighed, his breath thick with frustration and angst. His mother had fallen ill only a few days ago and already she was unable to stand, let alone walk. Little did he know, young as he was, Chiva's end was near. The black haired woman coughed up blood the second night in a row, moreover, her skin was coming apart; Chiva was dying.

Again, the boy let out a sigh. Everything had happened so fast, like in a blur almost.

His sister, standing next to him, had her pale face planted on the sill, her small frame hardly tall enough to look out of the window.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Dr. Lychee was no idiot. He had for long seen through the Saiyajin strategy, and their so-called diversion. He had since years worked feverishly on his invention, the Hacchihyaku or Hate Amplifier 800 to avenge their own, most certain downfall by spurring hatred against the Saiyajin everywhere. Sadly, Dr. Lychee would be unable to witness the random power of the Hate Amplifier as he was trapped in one of the towers of his Fortress and would die soon.

Although the losses to her party were great and painful, Yam had survived the catastrophe of their assault and as the moonlight was overshadowed by clouds, she entered the fortress' main citadel, looking for Lychee himself, to deliver him before Lord Vejiita. As she stormed down the last door that separated her from Lychee she looked face to face with a fragile old man who met with her eyes, showing no fear at all.

She smirked but did not hide her disappointment. "So you're Lychee, huh?"

The old man blinked, then looked out the window to look at the destruction the Saiyajin left in their paths, to see their leader Vejiita rage towards the citadel fast. The moon was hidden in shadows but even without the Oozaru, the Saiyajin destroyed with no mercy. There would be no need to stall things and he hit the Hate Amplifier's engage button, sending off rays of pure hate into the night sky, off to other worlds, other galaxies.

"That's doctor Lychee for you, Saiyajin wench," the man said as he turned to her.

She looked at him confusedly.

"What do you think you're doing?" she barked at him angrily. She noticed from the corner of her eye that Vejiita stood behind her, his eyes showing a loathing she hadn't seen in a while.

The old man before them laughed. "By now, the Saiyajin are the most hated creatures in all the universe. There is no species left that is free from a hidden resentment towards the lot of you. And I'm sure you will feed that hatred yourselves. You Saiyajin will mean your own downfall."

Vejiita in all his fury pushed Yam out of the way and blasted Dr. Lychee into a thousand pieces, hoping to never hear such sickening Tsufuru mirth again.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Vaerr was now the one to worry. Standing by the far edge of the Throne Room, he observed his two children; little did they know of how Chiva had fallen ill. Such young children were not to be concerned with adult matters, whether it'd be political, personal or even public, children were not to be burdened with much of anything except growing up, which was hard enough as it was already. Gular and Uyra were too young to grasp the vastness of what was happening to their world, he was certain.

Chikura-sei was coming apart. And one man, Vaerr knew, was responsible. Vaerr did not know his name, nor his motives, Vaerr knew this man wanted nothing more than to bring down the era of peace in which the Chikurajin had lived since the Kaioushin had banned them from the Inner World, forcing them to take up normal life in the harsh war-torn Real, or Outer World. This man had evil motives no doubt. The King sighed, trying to ban feelings of guilt. Vaerr bore responsibility for Chiva, she had fallen ill because he had failed. And now, he would die with her.

"Gular, Uyra!" he called. "Come."

Turning to look at his father, Gular saw in the old man's eyes he was not to enlighten them with good news regarding his mother. Taking his sister by the hand, he walked up to his father. The two kids were silent, afraid to find out why their father had called for them.

Vaerr, as he had kneeled by their sides, could not gather the strength to speak. He simply stared at his children, a hand on Gular's head, the other at Uyra's cheek. The young pale haired girl saw the grief in his eyes; she had always had the ability to feel what others felt and as she just wanted to say something to comfort him, he spoke.

"You know your mother is also struck down by Black Death, like most of our people. As you know, those infected are sent in quarantine near the valley of Sah G'narr. So will your mother..."

He paused but resumed before neither Gular nor Uyra could respond; speaking with determination and an urge in his words, Gular had never heard from his father. "I shall accompany her." He rose on his feet, turning away slightly. "Burresba will take care of you while we are absent. Please, don't give poor Burresba-san a hard time, as you know, he is quite old."

Uyra stared at her father, an impressive shadow towering over her. She loved Burresba dearly, he was like family to her and her brother, but she knew there was a fear in the old man's eyes upon each occasion she had seen him, almost as if he was afraid of something. Uyra fought her tears. Her mother was leaving, so was her father. She would be left behind. "Can't we say goodbyes?" she whispered, pulling on her dress with her tiny fingers, not knowing what to say or do.

Vaerr sighed, he turned and kneeled a second time. "Come here, little one." He said, and embraced his daughter. "Of course you can say goodbye, Uyra-chan. Of course you can."

His voice tripped, revealing deep and sincere grief. He picked up his daughter, took Gular by the hand and walked deeper into the compounds of the citadel.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

A tall grey haired man, an old man that did not show his age outside the greyness of his hair, sat in a massive stool, at the head of a stone table in a small timber cabin.

He was older than any of the men sharing his presence, he was older than any of them combined. His eyes were dark, his intentions even darker.

The men gathered in the room talked nineteen to the dozen, cross-purposes and loudly. The grey haired man sighed, not mingling in any of the conversations.

One of the men silenced them all up. "Wait! Just hold on a minute!" he yelled, turning to the seated man. "Darken," he said, "what do you want us to do?"

Darken, as the grey haired man was called, smirked. He looked at the expectant crowd smugly prior to responding. As he did, it silenced them all up permanently. He narrowed his eyes, making them seem even darker than they already were. Then, Darken spoke.

"Raid the citadel."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: The Vejiita you see in this chapter is not the one you all know and love. This is his father, the later King Vejiita. I wish to portray at least a little bit of what happens prior to Vejiita's birth to foreshadow later events and to explain why Vejiita has little respect for his father. All that will be explained, trust me. This is NOT set as an Alternate Universe, by the way.

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	5. Tale 2 Promises

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Two ---Promises--- **  
Rating: T**

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

When the Tsufuru-jin were destroyed, few managed to escape. It took the Saiyajin several months to conquer the remaining Tsufuru that had retreated to hiding but the Saiyajin found them, tortured them and murdered them. The Saiyajin controlled the entire planet and renamed their world Vejiita-sei, after their beloved warlord. Some things about the Tsufuru were left intact, and it was their technology they took over, a knowledge not one of the warring Saiyajin possessed by nature.

Lord Vejiita sat in his throneroom in the Saiyajin bastion, what used to be the Fortress of Lychee, a name that was never dealt with again. Vejiita enjoyed his new existence and ployed new strategies to augment the might of the Saiyajin.

The massive doors to the throne room opened and one of his sentinels entered with a bow.

Vejiita sat up, gesturing the soldier to speak of whatever had brought him here.

"Great King," the sentinel said in a nervous voice. "Lady Yam of the Royal Guard has come to bid your audience."

Vejiita bit back his laughter. _Bid my audience, I am sure_, he thought. Yam was never one with good manners or bidding for anything. It did not sound like the head of his Royal Guard, and it most definitely did not sound like anything Yam would even begin to consider saying. He grinned.

Yam pushed the sentinel aside. "Get out of my way," she sneered. "So, Vejiita, is this how you receive old friends? You keep them waiting in confined, smelly old chambers."

She turned to the sentinel again, who had just found back his balance. "Leave us!" she barked at him, knocking over his balance once more.

Again, Yam focused on Vejiita. She approached him in an elegant stride, her tail swinging back and forth behind her. She brushed her carmine hair out of her face, and scrutinized him with her dark eyes.

"You've put on weight," she said. "And you've grown a beard I see." She snickered. "The latter suits you quite well."

Vejiita stood from his throne and descended to her level. He looked down to her – she was a petite looking Saiyajin – and laughed.

"Well, so have you."

She put her hands akimbo, looking up to him in a stare down. "I did not grow a beard," she replied crotchety.

Vejiita laughed. "You'd better not," he spoke. "But you got fat."

She smirked deviously. "Which is why I've come."

Vejiita moved back to his throne and sat down. He watched her carefully. What was she getting at? What the Hell was she talking about?

"I've come here to ask you for a week off."

"A week? A full week!" Vejiita snickered. "You're out of your mind. It's out of the question."

Yam's face remained calm as if his words did not sink in. "I wasn't finished. I need a week off to give birth."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The room was barely lit. But as Vaerr set his daughter down, the girl could easily determine the motionless form of her mother's in the massive wooden bed that made up for most of the furniture in the huge chamber. The room was mostly empty, and felt cold, sending shivers up the girl's spine, forcing her back to the doorway where she held on to her balance by grabbing the doorframe for support. Like most of the citadel's interior, the grand bed was ornamented excessively. Two wooden dragons wielded to the end of the bed, their jaws ready to strike at anyone to enter the room but mostly at each other in a lover's embrace. Uyra had always been fascinated by dragons, having realistic dreams of being inside one as if she was one of them.

Within her was a dragon that roared, demanding to be released. Since the first sensation she had had looking through the eyes of a dragon as if she had become one, she had feared them. Uyra did not understand the sensation, she did not understand why she had to become a monster she could not control. She feared the dragon because it was part of her.

Chiva opened her eyes. She knew her children had come to say farewell.  
Her son sat beside her but she could only discern an outline of his features. "Gular-kun," she spoke, having a hard time to form words whilst beads of sweat trickled down her swollen temples. "Be a good boy and take care of your sister while I am gone."

Gular nodded and put a hand on her wrist gently. "I promise."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"To give birth!" Vejiita roared, slamming a fist onto one of the throne's arms. He glared at her. "And whose brat are you giving birth to, my senior officer?"

Yam didn't move but her tail revealed her unease.

"You know very well whose it is, Lord Vejiita," she said.

Vejiita leaned his chin on one hand, pretending to be bored with her words. "Very well," he said. "You have a week off but only a week. Give birth to your brat and afterwards report to me immediately."

"Vejiita!" she yelled at him in fury. "How dare you not acknowledge this child as yours! Do you take no responsibility for your actions?" Her tail lashed behind her.

In reaction to her sudden outburst, Vejiita chortled. "Calm down, calm down. Come, sit next to me."

Hesitantly, she approached and sat next to him, in the throne fitted for Vejiita's future queen. She glared at him but he ignored her anger.

"Not to worry, Yam," he said. He hardly called her by her name so she knew he was serious this time. Her glare subsided and she watched his every move, the wrinkles in his brow, the way he looked at her, how his lips moved. "I will have you as my queen," he said to her. "But not until you tell me what it's gonna be."

"What what's gonna be?" she whispered.

"The brat, of course!" He coughed, plucking his beard. "It is gonna be a boy, right?"

"No, Vejiita," she said as she touched her stomach. "It's not gonna be a boy."

"Get out."

"Vejiita," she pleaded.

"Get out!"

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Uyra stared. She was still afraid, afraid of Black Death, afraid of the call of the dragon that kept roaring inside of her, afraid of the future. No one understood her hidden powers, nor her hidden fears, no one but Gular for he felt it too. Inside him, another dragon roared, giving Uyra the strength she needed, giving her the knowledge she wouldn't stand alone, no matter what the future might bring.

"_Kaachan_..." Uyra still hesitated. She was as much attached to Gular as she was to her mother. And she knew her mother would die, she knew what it meant and she knew the future would be dark from now on. Uyra could see flares of the future, she always had been able to but usually she understood when it was already too late. She took a hesitant step towards the bed, the glistening emerald eyes of wooden dragons reflecting in her pale eyes.

"Uyra-chan… is that you?" Chiva's speech faltered involuntarily and she coughed. "Come here. Mommy has got something for you…"

Hesitantly but by each step coming closer, Uyra walked up to the bed, her chin leaning on the silk woven quilt. "_Okaasan watashi na desu_. I'm here."

Chiva looked at the girl, and despite her youth, she reminded her of her grandmother. Uyra had eyes of a dragon, like her brother, a shine in them not many Chikurajin bore to this day. It ran in her family as they were descended from the Great Therin himself, the Ryuujin or God of Dragons, one of Murass' most respected. Uyra bore the sign of the Dragon from birth, the girl was destined for great things even if she wouldn't be there to see them, she knew Uyra would achieve more than she had. She lifted her hand, which cost her more difficulty than she had expected. Her slender fingers enclosed a shimmering chain of precious metal in the end united into a curved pendant enriched with a radiant emerald. It was the Dragon Tear. "_Hi-obaasan no mayoke da. Anatano wa desu_." She had difficulty breathing, keeping her sentences as simple as she could before continuing. Right now, speaking fell upon her at least as difficult as breathing, feeling as if she was being strangled. "This charm is called the Dragon Tear…" She blinked slowly, a rueful smile touching her pale cheeks. "And belonged to your ancestor Gundash-Ou, who received it as marital gift from Therin, Guardian of the Western Universe." She knit her brow, closed her eyes, fighting a surge of pain that shot through her. "Its powers are endless. You'll find out when ready."

She breathed rapidly, attempting to calm down her dying body. "Take it, Uyra." She urged. "Don't be afraid, just take it."

For a brief moment, Uyra's tiny hand touched her mother's and upon that touch, Chiva was confronted with the immense power brewing inside of her young child. And she knew, the era of the Dragon had not died, yet had been slumbering for long.

She tried to hold on to life for a little while longer and turned to look upon her son even though she couldn't see him, her eyesight abated. "Gular..." she grumbled, and squinted her eyes, trying to focus.

In response, Gular placed his right-hand on Chiva's left. He understood she could no longer see.  
"Gular-kun… take the ring you see on my left-hand…" She coughed unwillingly, not wanting her children to see she would cough up blood if she did not fight the urge to heave. "It is for you to keep… to keep close…" she resumed in a strangled voice. "_Hi-ojiisan no mayoke da. Ima anatano wa desu_. It has the same hidden powers the necklace has. Don't forget… The jewel is called a Dragon Tear and belonged to Rhym, Therin's brother. Hold on to it… hold on… no matter what."

The woman gasped and fiercely closed her eyes, obviously in a great deal of anguish.  
She looked at the ceiling, her eyes focusing on the masterpiece of black dragons brandished over and under one another, one even more detailed than the other, and to Chiva, it almost seemed they actually moved. A single tear gently trickled down her cheek and she heaved, fending for air.  
She lowered her eyes, looking at both her children. Upon meeting with Gular's stare, the boy understood Death called for her. Her daughter knew alike, for in her mother's eyes life was all but gone, dull and faded from torment.  
Queen Chiva smiled repentantly, and as King Vaerr came nearer, the latter swiped away the crystal tear that rested on her almost ivory-looking cheek.  
She looked up to her husband, then beyond, looking at the dragons dancing on the ceiling. Chiva had been holding a lungful of air unconsciously and upon realization, she closed her eyes and released her breath.

It was her final.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The night's silence was chased off by the deafening screams of a woman in labour.

Saiyajin physicians moved around her like worker ants, trying to keep the woman from drifting off due to the constant pain she was in.

Her eyes were unable to focus as she cried out.

"You're almost there, Lady Yam."

"You're almost there."

She couldn't hear them, and focused only on her endless rage.

"Vejiita!" she roared in sync with another contraction. "I'll get you for this!"

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

It was a humid morning, very humid to say the least. A pelting rain that never seemed to end, fell down from the grey skies, hampering King Vaerr in the heavy burden of setting the funeral pyre his late-wife was placed upon, on fire.

Perhaps too young to realize, still Uyra was inconsolable. Her brother on the other hand, seemed sedated.  
Although he had barely outgrown a diaper, Gular was clever enough to notice something wasn't quite right. It was obvious things were off, way off.  
The Prince realized his father was hiding something; yet he also knew _otousan _had loved his wife dearly and did what he had to do. After all, he was the king.  
Gular's eyes remained focused on the burning pyre, the flames reflecting in his eyes and face, his fiery red hair blending in with the raging inferno.

From the corner of his vision, he watched his father. The man seemed to reveal as well as hide mingle of emotions, as far as he could tell. He could put his finger on grief and fear for what was to happen without much difficulty, but there was something more to it, of which Gular could not quite determine as to what it was. And he wondered, was his father hiding something?

The tall dark haired Chikurajin left, without word, without any indication of what he was about to do. And without hesitation, Gular went after his father; somehow realizing it might be the last he would ever see of him.

Far away from the small chapel, by one of the side entrances of the citadel, Gular caught up on the man and startled the latter by speaking, causing him to turn around.

"_Tousan_…"

"My son," Vaerr spoke, searching for words -or so it seemed, "please, you must understand I have no choice." He heaved a painful sigh prior to continuing. "Take good care of your sister. You are Chikura no Ou, now. And you must protect Uyra. Please, Gular-kun..."  
There was both a feeling of remorse as well as urge in his voice as he embraced his son, straightened again, and left. And even though Gular refused to believe so, he realized, his father was never to return.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"Congratulations," the Saiyajin physician said to her. "It's a girl."

Yam turned her eyes towards the man, her face sweaty and showing her fatigue. "Give her to me," she whispered in rasps.

"We'll clean her up for you first," said one of the females at her bedside. "We'll check on her health and her powerlevel as well. We wouldn't want to burden you with a child born below its class, now would we?"

Yam screamed. "Give her to me!"

Frantically, the nurse looked at the head physician who was just done checking the child's powerlevel. He shook his head to her.

"I…I…" the nurse stammered.

In a panic, Yam knit her brow and called for the head physician.

"Gaugee! Give me back my baby!"

Gaugee approached her, standing by her side. "I'm sorry," he said as he looked down to her. "The child will be fostered in a third-class legion. Her powerlevel is too weak to be born from an elite—"

The woman did not allow him to finish his sentence and had her hands at his throat. "Give her back to me, Gaugee. I can care less about some stupid powerlevel. I want her, give her back." Her voice was low and threatening, her eyes darker than they had ever been.

It took a little while before Gaugee nodded and she let go of him. "Very well," he said reluctantly. "Give her that weakling child."

At that, Yam blasted him into the afterlife. "Now," she sneered to the nurse. "Give me my child."

Quickly, the nurse complied to the woman's order and handed her a small baby girl, whose spiky hair was as carmine as her mother's and ended in a widow's peak. When the girl opened her eyes Yam noticed they were as black as Vejiita's.

"Hello little one," she said to the child. "And welcome."

The nurse leaned in to look closer. She smiled, a Saiyajin smile. "What are you going to name her?" she asked.

Yam smirked, glanced at the nurse before focusing on the little bundle in her arms again.

"Vejiita," she answered. "I will name her Vejiita."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: Author snickers evilly. Haha.


	6. Tale 3 Do You Remember When?

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Three ---Do You Remember When?--- **  
Rating: T**

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Vaerr, who not only in his own eyes but also in those of others, had failed to be a good king, had lacked the capacity to lead a people that was once amongst divinity, only to be damned as mortals in a world not suited for their needs. But such thoughts did not bother him at this point. For Vaerr would never be there for his children again, would never be able to see them grow up, and he knew that if he'd look back now he'd be unable to leave, unable to keep from crying.  
Without saying another word, he left and it was the last Gular ever saw of his father.

Gular fought back the gentlest sob, knowing as a prince, it was his task to remain strong, to remain undaunted. He looked behind, catching a glimpse of his sister in the distance, standing motionless by the dying flames. He did not return to attend the rest of the ceremony, instead he watched what happened from a distance, looking at his sister as the young child sought comfort with her guardian, Burresba.

The old man responded to her plea by picking her up. Gular knew, their mother's death was too much for Uyra to handle, too much for her to understand.

Before final words were uttered, so his mother could return to her ancestors in peace, Gular left, heading for the throne room.

Walking past columns in the vast gallery, he pushed aside the doors that indicated the entry to the council hall, to Gular known as his parent's – the king and queen's – throne room.

The red haired boy sat down in his father's throne, resting his head in his hand-palms.

Silently, careful not to be noted, the young prince wept.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Although Lord Vejiita tried hard to keep up his stern, heartless demeanour, truth was he could not hide his curiosity. After all, he'd been careful not to reproduce with any unworthy woman in his younger years. Surely he could muster at least the pluck to face Yam and see what was the product of their bond, if one could call it such.

He marched down the spotlessly clean hallway, ignoring whomever stepped aside in his presence. He stormed inside the room that read her name on it and was quite surprised to see Yam up and about. Giving birth to a Saiyajin was a perilous operation, after all.

With diffidence, she moved her head to look at him, only to look outside once more. She didn't care to see him now. Where had that bastard been before? What did he want? Was he curious?

She squinted with her eyes to look in the distance. She didn't say a word but giving it thought, neither did he.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

He looked up, unshed tears still waiting to be released. His vision remained blurred and he wrinkled his brow as he noticed sitting on something. Looking beside him, he discerned a small note half hidden underneath his left leg.

Gular had found a letter.

After wiping away his tears, the boy unfolded the note and begun reading.

'My dearest children,' 

Gular swallowed. He recognized the handwriting. His father had written this letter, and despite the fact the ink was smudged slightly, he could easily determine what had been written down.

'I must leave. Black Death will take me eventually and I refuse to cast it down upon you as well. Divinity, asks you to be strong. Your people ask you to be strong.

_Take the hope I have always held on to with you. And promise me you will never give up. I ask of you only this and to rebuild the Dragon's dominion once this tragedy is overcome. Promise me your children will live in stillness and grandeur, as will theirs…'_

The red haired boy swallowed and nodded absent-mindedly before he continued reading.

'Gular, you are the heir to the throne, you must take care of your people, you must take care of Uyra. Guard them with your life.

_Although you never knew, the Deshi no Ryuu are more than just your ancestors, they have given you more than a long bloodline derived to the Ryuujin themselves. For they have granted you a hidden cause, as you both interlude a New Era. The Prophecy of Seiren will be your guide for you are... Children of the Circle; make us proud._

_  
Your friend and father, _

Vaerr no Ou.'

He didn't really understand everything his father had tried to tell him. Regardless, Gular was a protective brother to Uyra and decided not to let the little girl read this message. He crumpled up the paper absentmindedly and as he crushed it to dust and tiny fragments of parchment, Uyra entered, her face taut and stricken with sadness.

"_Doko ni touchan da_?" she asked innocently.

Gular was unsure what he should say but felt determined to tell her she would never see her father until she herself would be sent to the realm of the afterlife.

"_Fuuzen_." He said, "Where the wind blows and where the sky meets the world. You will see him when you can nevermore hear the ocean."

The girl was obviously confused, fighting her tears. To stop her from crying, Gular added one more sentence before taking her in his arms.

"You will see him again, Uyra." He swallowed, set not to cry. "I promise."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

He looked at the infant sleeping in the incubator. Her hair looked like his only bore a different colour. It didn't say anything. It could just as easily be someone else's trademark widow's peak.

"Why is it not awake?" he demanded.

Yam did not care to look at him as she answered. "It seems babies sleep a lot." Her voice was hollow. She did not want for small talk.

He pressed a button on the incubator, opening its hatch. The infant opened her black eyes, mirroring his own dour stare. This one was his alright.

Lord Vejiita smirked, and looked for his scouter to measure the child's power. As he attached the scouter and moved the pane over his eye he pushed the button on the side to quantify her strength accurately.

He did not hide his disappointment, letting himself overflow with fury. This wasn't his brat! This couldn't be his brat! This one was weak and puny! His brats would not be weak and puny!

Yam turned and walked over to him.

"Disappointed, lord king?"

He glared at her. "This is not my brat!" he spat at her.

Yam showed him a blank stare. His words did not seem to affect her. "Very well, lord king."

Her reaction somewhat surprised him. Did she not care? Feh, he grumbled. Have it your way.

What did she want?

"What do you want, Yam?"

She uttered a small laugh. "Hah! It's a little late for that, is it not? What I want is for you to acknowledge this child as yours. I don't need your support, lord king. I've always fared well on my own. I want you to acknowledge her so she can bear the name I bore in mind."

He eyed her suspiciously. "Which is…?"

"Vejiita."

Lord Vejiita made a face, then laughed. "Bwahaha! You're kidding. Hahahaha!"

Yam didn't move, her eyes deadly serious.

Vejiita stopped laughing. "You're not kidding, are you?"

"Not at all."

Lord Vejiita thought he might be ready to explode.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Night fell. Gradually as the two suns -one at a time- sank into the planet's surface, Gular was falling asleep, and yet he couldn't really catch any sleep. The boy worried, wondered what his fate would be, and wondered why he had the feeling something bad would soon happen.

His sister had been silent all afternoon. All she had done was stare out of the window.

He sighed.

The shattering sound of bombshells hurled through the sky, cutting, breaking. An explosion followed not long after, and Gular sat up in his bed instantly, wide awake. Something built up inside of him. Gular was more frightened than he had ever been.

As he looked out of the window to see what was going on he was confronted with a mass of people, moving like an ocean, holding up torches and improvised weaponry like shovels and forks, producing lengthy waves of unbestowed yelling.

They formed a unity, as if they were one immense fiend.

Gular had long been aware of what happened around him, especially these past months. There had always been dissenters of the monarchy, there had always been a few that wanted to change everything, everywhere. But Gular would never have guessed there were so many!

The boy knew he would have to flee. The Palace of the Dragon King, Ryuuguu, was a sanctuary no more. Gular would leave, and he would take Uyra and Burresba with him.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Yam held her ground. The Saiyajin woman was not planning to let Vejiita humiliate her in front of their child. She brushed her carmine hair back and glared at him with an indignant face.

"You shouldn't have come, lord king," she said with the coldest of voices. "Perhaps it is time for you to leave."

"Are you giving me an order?" he sneered. He sounded upset, angered. She did not care. "Are you actually giving me an order!"

"Take it any way you want, Vejiita. I can care less."

The man before her narrowed his eyes into a hardhearted glower. "Are you challenging me, Yam?" He was holding back his fury. Vejiita had always been the one to loose his temper over meaningless disputes that could be solved easily. Lord Vejiita would've made a lousy diplomat, she knew that much. "You're not to challenge me. You're to be my queen, Yam. Whether I will ever acknowledge that weakling creature you bore or not. You're not to challenge me. I am your king." She saw something in his eyes that hinted of the man she had once known. She knew then and there she had no choice but to do as he told her. However, Yam wasn't planning to go down without showing him what it meant to be a lousy king.

"Like I said, lord king," she said as her crimson eyes locked onto his. "Take it any way you want." His fist connected with her cheek before she had finished talking to him. She didn't take his assault personal and refused to fight back. This wasn't Vejiita who was attacking her. This was the lord king. King of the Saiyajin.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The girl looked at the man before her. Tall, angered, wrinkles carved deeply into his brow. He screamed at her, barked at her and waved his arms aggressively. But she could not understand his words.

His voice was loud, sounds he produced hoarse and gruff.

It burned inside of her. Burned forever, her head pounded and she could no longer see.

She felt as if her skin was being torn apart, and her eyes blazed with fire. She felt as if she exploded, as if she was dying. She screamed, kicked and punched.

And then it stopped.

She still kept her eyes shut firmly, afraid of the world around her, afraid of what she had done this time. Upon finally opening her eyes, she looked at utter destruction as far as she could see in front of her, to her left, behind her, everywhere.

Aflame buildings and foliage, all was either dying or had completely turned to ashes.

She let herself sink to the ground that persistently smoked and crackled. "It's happened again. It's happened again…" she whimpered over and over, hoping her brother would find her soon.

Behind her, the damaged and burnt hand of a man lay cold with death upon the lifeless ground, amidst the moulds and ashes of what once was the city of Vizz-Uhn. The man, covered in concrete and dust tried to reach out, unable to scream. The man was lost, forced to await death in a struggle he was set to lose. The man was Burresba.

And still the young girl whimpered without end. "It's happened again, it's happened again, it's happened again…"

Outdrowning the scorching flames and collapsing buildings, Uyra screamed.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x


	7. Tale 4 Together Forever?

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Four ---Together Forever?--- **  
Rating: T**

_I don't know when I made my choice  
A long time ago, I am very sure  
For behind me, the path is all long gone  
And I realize I am truly alone  
Everything is silent, still and pure  
And I can't even hear my own smothered voice_

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Years passed and the hunt for the Children of Ryuuguu was abandoned. Gular and Uyra, the sole legacy the Ryuujin had left behind were considered dead.

Hidden in time and wilderness, two children fend hard for themselves, tried to grow up in a harsh, war-torn land.

They were the only ones able to turn around the mayhem that razed Chikura-sei for nearly a decade now.

"Gular-kun! Gular stop playing around with that sword, it's dinner time!"

Orange and purple of breaching sunset at the distant horizon blend in with rippling dunes that celebrated the distant lands. Woodland and mountains rose up almost abruptly and in the shadow of a gigantic, deciduous tree a teenage boy practiced katas, hurling his sword at an invisible, nonexistent enemy.  
"I'm coming Uyra!" he yelled. "Just a few more minutes!"

He continued lashing down his sword, bringing it up again. In between moves he released his breath and retaliated at his imagined adversary.

"Gular!" the girl called for him again and eventually he gave in, knowing she would continue calling for him until both suns would have vanished under the horizon.

He sheated his sword, flicked off a little dust from his collar and rubbed his forehead, smearing a mixture of dirt and sweat across his cheeks.

Crossing a small stream, he strode through a lush field of grass and small leafed spring foliage before finding his way alongside rims of mountain. By the entry of a fissure that seemed to be a split mountain of some sort, sat a young girl; her hair as pale as snowfall, her cheeks rosy and flushed.

As the boy bend through his knees to sit down he was abruptly stopped. One of the girl's small fingers touched his nose warningly, almost holding the boy in place. "Hold it right there, mister high and mighty!" she scolded, "Don't think I'll let you eat close to a bite when you're all dirty like that! Go wash up!"

The boy swallowed and nodded. He knew she'd never let him enjoy dinner in peace and quiet before he'd cleaned himself up. And so he did.

He did not want to disturb his sister while she was eating but by the troubled look on her face he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep if he did not find out what it was that bothered her this time. He sighed, it was so like her to pretend nothing was bothering her and sit quietly during dinner.

Gular knew his sister well enough to know she refused to respond to direct questions so the boy decided to try a more evasive way of approaching her.

"You remember Burresba-san always saying..." he began, hoping she'd respond.

The girl looked up, her eyes wide and surprised by his choice of subject. "Come closer children, let old Burresba tell you a story!" she added, imitating the old man's voice as she attended her food again. She smiled ruefully. "_Omoidotta_. I remember. He was such a good man, wasn't he?"

For some reason, one the boy could not determine, Gular felt a sense of peace coming from within her he hadn't felt since Burresba had been so brutally murdered about a decade ago, murdered in the main street of Vizz-Uhn, by the chapel's altar; in front of Uyra's very eyes. She had only been four years old back then.

Gular sighed, turning away, his stare lost in one of the setting suns. The dying sunlight stung in his eyes, making him feel dizzy. It had been the dragon that had murdered Burresba. It had been the dragon inside of his sister that had been awakened by something of which his sister had been witness, something he could only conjecture about.

He knew the dragon that slept inside of him alike the one that roared inside his sister, was a heritage the Ryuujin bloodline had bestowed. He knew it was a power he could control if he were determined enough, for he knew the power was similar to the ones mentioned in the tales and legends their mother had always told them about. He knew it was the legacy of Murass, Lord of Dragons.

He looked at his sister again before he rose upon his feet and left. He turned away from the fissure and leaned against the trunk of a massive tree, staring blankly.

Uyra looked at her brother, unable to read what he was thinking. She knew, however, something was bothering him. "Maybe you'll feel better if we talk about it," she attempted.

Gular didn't respond; he simply continued staring at nothing in particular, back turned to his sibling.

Uyra rubbed her lips and stood, not once losing sight of Gular. "How about a swords-duel instead?"

This time, Gular shrugged, yet still did not reply. Uyra put her hands akimbo and exhaled. _Suit it yourself_, she thought.

She looked to her side, her double bladed longsword leaning on the rock she had sat all afternoon, whetting the blade.

She grimaced and picked up the weapon with a swift graceful move, soundlessly and poised.

_I'll chop off his head if he doesn't open his mouth and talk. He'd better respond this time!_

Her expression was more mischievous than angered, her smirk revealing a playful nature.

She pulled up her sword, bringing the blade far over her head, readying to strike down.

Just as she wielded her sword down, Gular put his open hand-palm to Uyra's stomach and sent her backwards with one powerful thrust of energy.

And Uyra was thrown through the sky, tossed in the middle of the kettle of hotchpotch she had brewed earlier this evening. "Gular!" she complained, "You jerk! Now look what you've done!"

Gular turned, looking at her impassively. "Serves you right."

The boy was planning to say more but was unable to keep an uncreaked face and laughed.

"Gular!" Uyra muttered futilely.

"_Shou ga nai_. I can't help it. You look like an idiot…" the boy laughed.

Uyra sneered, pulled herself out of the kettle and strode into the cave angrily. "This isn't funny!" She still muttered as she tried to wash off the stains the hotchpotch had caused and growled when she was unable to.

"I'll get you for this, Gular."

Gular on the other hand seemed the least worried as he turned away again, still chuckling over the funny picture of his sister stuck in a kettle of hotchpotch. Just as he was settling down again he felt a glutinous substance landing in the back of his neck, the goo slowly dripped down his back. It made him to shiver.

He turned around, wide-eyed. His sister usually wasn't this aggressive.

Next to the kettle that still hung over the fire, stood Uyra, holding a wooden spoon in her hand forebodingly, indicating the hotchpotch in Gular's neck was her doing.

"There's my revenge!" she guffawed.

Gular showed a half hidden grin, powerless to her enchanting smile. He shook his head, and reached for his sword. "If that's a challenge, I accept. Bring it on!" he said as he took on an offensive stance, gesturing with his hand for her to come closer.

In response to her brother, Uyra took her longsword, and resolutely approached.  
"You may be stronger," she quipped, "but I am more agile, more cunning, smarter, more beautiful, have better senses..."  
Gular, however, wouldn't let the girl finish her sentence and ferociously attacked his sister.

"_Oi!_ I hadn't finished yet!" she protested, trying to avoid her brother from taking the advantage. Desperately, she attempted to dodge the blows Gular dealt.

She swiftly recoiled, attacking with fierce agility. At every strike she assured herself of her superiority over her brother.

"As I was saying – more agile," and with a clash the swords collided, "more cunning," again the metal clashed, "smarter!" she yelled when she noticed Gular wasn't just standing there, but was actually fighting back. "The better looking!" she growled, attempting to gain the upper hand on her older and obviously physically stronger brother.

Their eyes met and at that point Gular smiled smugly, noticing Uyra wasn't paying proper attention.

With a swift movement he put his foot behind the girl's heel, sweeping her off her feet. She lost her balance and fell.

In a matter of seconds Uyra dropped her sword and Gular caught it. He brought down both swords with a whoosh.

His pale haired sister didn't have time to react and closed her eyes, expecting a serious blow to the head – or worse.  
As she opened her pale eyes, the blades of both swords were just an inch from her throat.  
"You were saying, princess…" the boy teased.

He smiled, looking down at her flabbergasted expression. "I guess I won and you lost. You were off guard," he edified her.

"_Ano_, I let you win – to cheer you up."

The girl began flicking off the dust from her clothes after her brother had helped her up.

Gular smiled and put an arm round his sister. "I bet..."

Uyra loved how fearless and carefree her brother was. May it be he was a marvellous swordsman, it would never be enough to keep the enemy at bay forever.

They both still had a lot to learn although they were at least coping with the situation.

She showed Gular a small smile.

The enemy armies and mercenaries might be skilled but not skilled enough to find them. She knew the enemy considered them dead and it was all for the best, for now. One day, all that would change. But it wasn't the right time yet.

For even the mundane life they led now was filled with danger.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Yam was never the same after she'd officially become Lord Vejiita's wife. Not long after their marriage she had given birth to a proper heir, as far as Vejiita was concerned; one worthy to bear his name. The boy was a lot stronger than her daughter had ever been, even today, but Yam knew her daughter's strength may not be high in terms of the physical but all the greater on a different level completely. She knew Kaiyl, as she was dubbed by their lord king, was closer to becoming a Super Saiyajin than any of them would ever be.

And so Yam pulled back into a covert life as Queen of the Saiyajin. She missed the days of glory when her lord king had still been her closest friend, her lover. Now, King Vejiita thought of nothing but Saiyajin supremacy and the will to become a Super Saiyajin. He poisoned their son rousing him to hate her and his feeble sister who was considered illicit and unworthy to be of an elite house.

However, the Queen of the Saiyajin knew her place and decided it best to not openly challenge the king. She allowed him to poison their son but she forbade him to have Kaiyl sent off to a second class legion.

"Kaiyl stays," she had said to him. "Or you'll lose your precious son."

King Vejiita had not been amused.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The world was torn by war, dearth, and shortage, claiming its toll on visibly each of Chikura-sei's inhabitants. Famished men and women, an absurd levy the Chikurajin were paying for precedent mishap that perhaps wasn't even their fault. Many had not survived, even more would still follow, and the Chikurajin wondered when their tribulation would end.

Although callous, the Chikura learnt to live with ruin luring everywhere, yet after having dominated their lives for nearly fifteen years, Black Death vanished unexpectedly.

To this day, one might still wonder how it happened but less than six months after Black Death's final victim, an inward struggle divided the Chikurajin into two rivaling parties: Sanûme and Ilrindûme, Healers and Fighters.

Sanûmé, named after the glistening pallid Tear of Ganda –Dragoness of the Centre, were a calm folk, always playing a waiting game when it came to both trepidation and bliss.

Ilrindûme, in sharp contrast to the Sané, or Healers, were antagonistic and belligerent; always searching for rigorous solution. Ilrindûmé, named after the fiery Tear of Alana, Guardian of the North.

It wouldn't have been ever so perilous had it not been for Darken, Overlord of the Ilrindûmé, who acclaimed the Fighters as sole and rightful inhabitants of Chikura-sei, oppressing the People of Ganda and ravishing everything in sight.

To Darken, this still wasn't enough.

Sometimes, Uyra heard nearby villagers frightfully discussing what to do about their Overlord, they called Darken. She remembered a man by that name, a man of a long ago legend causing the downfall of their formerly divine existence.

A legend going back centuries, a man who had been killed by none other than the Kaiou-shin themselves. Henceforth, it could not be that very man who called himself Overlord, could it? Was it by some twisted irony that this man bore that very name?

To Uyra and Gular things were ethereal and far away.

Little did the two of them know how close by core of the situation actually was and how strongly it would affect them in time ahead. For Gular was a gifted warrior, an Ilrindûme by birth, and his sister was close to a chaste progeny of Ganda herself, the Goddess of Apathy, bearing the spirit of the healer!

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Young Vejiita, Prince of the Saiyajin was spoiled rotten by his father but in a manner one would expect of a Saiyajin lord. For Vejiita was not showered with gifts, au contraire! Vejiita was given one opportunity after the next to show his superiority over each and every Saiyajin or alien he was confronted with. Vejiita learned what it meant to be victorious and it filled the boy with an unhealthy pride. Young Vejiita was not allowed to muster even the most dwindling of emotions let alone shed any tears at his mother's sudden disappearance.

No one knew where Yam had gone, except maybe King Vejiita himself and Yam's most trusted bodyguard, Nappa. But King Vejiita never spoke of Yam's vanishing, except to Nappa, only once.

Yam had had enough of the constant interference of Lord Furiiza, a changeling overlord with whom the king had foolishly closed a deal, putting all Saiyajin in the shackles of servitude for but some measly pieces of gold, some meaningless technology and the duties of cleaning up worthless planets lord Furiiza either kept for his collection or sold off to whoever would provide him with the highest bid. This was not the path Yam had envisioned for the Saiyajin and so she'd had argument after argument with the king until she'd figured she was going in circles and would put an end to this ordeal herself.

Yam had decided to confront Lord Furiiza in person.

Nappa had come with her on this single-suicide mission. Nappa however, was a fool and had not foreseen Yam's true plans. She'd thought Furiiza reasonable enough for further negotiations however in the back of her head she had known the only way to force themselves out of the contract was to show the changeling that Saiyajin were strong enough to deal with Furiiza.

She knew of Furiiza's power and so she had gotten ready to take Furiiza with her to the grave. And she wasn't planning on making Nappa her witness. She had made him swear to take care of her son Vejiita.

Nappa closed his eyes. He remembered too well. Looking at her son, he remembered her even more. It was as if he could even smell her again. He saw a hint of bloodred in the Prince's eyes that was unmistakably Yam's. He missed her. She had taught him to always have a back-up plan. He remembered.

"Why your son?" he had asked her. "What about Kaiyl?"

Yam had smiled at him as she put a hand on his shoulder. "You know the answer, Nappa-san." Her smile turned to a smirk. "Kaiyl can stand up for herself. She's always been able to stay out of trouble. I can't say the same for that _baka_ son of mine, now can I, Nappa?"

Nappa had laughed at the time but in retrospect he should've known what she was saying.

The incident had caused a lot of turmoil between Furiiza and the Saiyajin and Nappa was convinced they hadn't seen the end of it yet.

Lord Vejiita had left Yam to die. And on the outside, it didn't even seem to affect him.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Early morn sunlight threw tall shadows across the cavern, tingling and quivering, gentle rays rested upon the girl's face. She kept her eyes shut deliberately for the teenager had already awoken earlier yet refused to get up and greet the sun.

Dancing in the clear beams of a rising star, particles of dust whirled blissfully in front of her. She still held her eyes shut, snubbing and drowsily.

Dust touching the tip of her nose ever so lightly, she sat up instantly and sneezed. She rubbed her face, opening her pale eyes. Uyra looked at the world covered in morning delight. She yawned and got up.

She looked behind her, watching her brother who was still far away, dozing and dreaming of a life in magnificence no doubt. She yawned again and shook her head. Why was she always the one to get up earliest and prepare breakfast? She shrugged off those thoughts and sat down on a small wooden box.

After having brushed her silk white hair, she stepped outside, to salute the sun and wash up. Outside, her eyes widened for a moment and she frowned. Then, the girl turned and dashed back into the cavern.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"One two three four! We are gonna win this war. Five six seven eight, surrender now bef're it's too late. Nine ten eleven twelve, come along and see yourself!"

Their firm boots moved in unison, crushing leaves and sand underneath.

The pace of their movement reverberated across the valley, amplified by mountain range in their eastern flank. It was a small party, no more than four soldiers including leader, a tall old man, who, despite his probable age stood proud and ostentatious.

"Seize such snivelling," he ordered pompously, "rebels are said to be in the vicinity. Soldiers ought to know better than to recite meaningless drivel while marching upon possible resistance."

"Yes sir!" And at that, all soldiers held their tongue. All that was left to be heard was the stomping of their feet onto the dense soil.

One girl watched them, only for an instant, though none of them even noticed.

One of the soldiers knew who was watching, who witnessed their every move at the very moment. And he knew, he knew what this meant. Uyra Ryuujin was still alive. He smirked.

_Child of Ryuuguu, she lives!_

That man, was Darken.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: In the next episode young Vejiita wants to learn of his mother.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x


	8. Tale 5 The Queen is Gone

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Five ---The Queen is Gone--- **  
Rating: T**

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Young Vejiita had little of a connection with his mother. Merely the will to never give up and the hint of crimson in both his eyes and hair reminded the Lord King of his beloved wife. But now that the Queen was gone, King Vejiita had had no reason left to keep the memory of Yam alive. Their firstborn, the feeble, puny Kaiyl did not make her father proud and the Lord King could only wonder why Yam had cared so much for a child this insignificant.

Kaiyl's distinct looks betrayed her heritage. Her eyes were a mirror to Vejiita's, as was her hair that differed only in colour. Her smile sounded like Yam's, her eyes lit up like Yam's always had, and every move she made reminded the king of his lost wife, reminded him that his wife's loss was his fault, and his alone.

He locked Kaiyl away in a distant room, hidden far away in the compounds of the Saiyajin stronghold. He barely laid eyes upon her and focused everything he had on his son, Vejiita.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She wasn't the kind of girl to panic or start talking through a hole in her head, firing an endless amount of thoughts at a person. No, Uyra remained calm, no matter what happened. Even now, she walked up to her brother, who snored loud enough to cause an earthquake, and kneeled by his side.

"_Mezameru shiribachi yo_," she said.

He turned away from her, half-consciously aware of her trying to wake him up. His fiery red hair fell into his face and he wrinkled his nose.

"Gular!" she barked. "Get up!"

"Hmmm, just a few more minutes… I'm sleepy…" the boy mumbled groggily.

Uyra's eyebrows nearly met as she frowned in frustration. "This is no time to sleep, there are soldiers nearby." Even now, the boy still refused to respond, pretending to be deaf.

"Gular, they're strong. Stronger than any soldier I've felt to this day! I'm serious!"

Gular chewed and wetted his lips. He kept his eyes shut firmly, almost convulsively.

"What are you talking about Uyra… it's still morning, let me sleep…" he complained.

His sister stood, and took her brother's blanket with her. Gular tried to reach out to yank the cover back but he was too late. Then, he curled up and tried to continue snoozing.

Uyra knew she wouldn't be able to wake him up, unless…

She looked next to her, noticing an old wooden bucket near the entrance of the cavern. She walked up to it, then went deeper into the cave, where an underground mountain stream found its way through endless curves and bends. She knew this water would wake him up instantly as it was by far colder than water from the outside brook. "_Ima mezameru_, Gular-kun – better wake up now," she said when she strode back to his bed, "I'm warning you!"

There was no reaction whatsoever from her brother as he begun to snore again.

"Suit it yourself, bro." Uyra shrugged and pulled back the bucket to throw its full content of icy mountain water over Gular's head, determined to wake him up.

"Aaaaaaaaaargh! Cold!"

Satisfied he had finally woken up, the girl set the bucket down and put her hands akimbo. "Works every time."

"By the horns of Therin, are you nuts!" Gular blurted out after he had instantly raised himself off his – now soaked – bed. "Damn that's cold." He shivered, and shook his head, his long, wet hair slashing in his face.

"Do you think they know we're here?" Uyra asked, concern in her eyes, her lips pressed together nervously. She looked at Gular who shunned any kind of response.  
"Gular-kun?"

"_Nani_?" he wondered, yawning. "Whom are you talking about?" Gular looked Uyra in the eyes, his voice still sounding groggy, slightly irritated even.

"The force that is coming our way," she replied.

"Well then, let's have a look, shan't we?"  
He stood upright and stretched his lean body, put on his boots, took his double-edged sword and walked out of the cave stress-free.

He focused his mind on life in the vicinity. He sensed his sister, sensed a frog, some birds in a nearby tree, and finally, he sensed his sister's summit of concern.  
"They're coming from the East. Two, three, four warriors of some sort," he calmly analysed.

"Shall I come with you?" Uyra asked.

"No need." He snorted and put the belt around his waist an inch tighter. Then he patted the sheet of his sword. "We've had the ability of thought transference since childhood, just warn me if there's anything. Don't you forget I can handle them. Just give me a shout if you need me. You know I'd do the same for you."

The girl nodded. And even if her brother told her a thousand heartening words, she'd still worry. How could anyone oppose a group of trained warriors, she wondered? How could anyone defeat a group of enemies without calling forth the dragon dormant in their hearts?

He walked away from her, and she continued looking at him until he was almost out of sight. Then, the boy turned and waved at her. He said some words but she couldn't hear him. She signalled him she didn't understand.

_:Together forever, imouto-chan. I'll be back soon:_

She smiled at the words he said in her mind, and nodded. Even if he might not see it, she knew he understood.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Darkness clung to his eyes and he tried to escape it. Young Vejiita did not enjoy being helpless in his dreams. He was nowhere near helpless in reality but the dreams that haunted him were so close to reality that they seemed to fool him every time.

He dreamed of the death of a woman he felt somehow connected to. Who was she? What did she want from him?

He woke up with a start, sitting up. He was young and in fury, he rubbed off the tears that stuck to his cheeks to emphasize his mental weakness, something he refused to admit. He was a child but at heart he was a merciless warrior, wanted to be a merciless warrior.

He looked beside him, seeing the dark shape of his personal guard.

"Nappa," he spoke to the man in a faked low voice. "Did you know my mother well?"

Nappa, the guard, came closer until he stode by the edge of Prince Vejiita's vast bed.

"Kneel, you brainless buffoon!" the child barked at him. Nappa did as he was told.

"I knew your mother well, Vejiita-Ouji," Nappa said.

"Tell me about her. Why did she marry the thoughtless monkey that is my father?"

Nappa could only wonder how a boy Vejiita's age found words that sounded this vain and pompous. Nappa wasn't sure where to start and therefore started with the day he first met Yam, Vejiita's mother and the future Queen of the Saiyajin.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Uyra had always been the one to worry. Gular was carefree, never lost hope, and never backed out. She was very different from him. She wondered if she could ever muster as much courage as her brother had. Sometimes she wondered if Gular held any fear at all.

She sat down in the thick grass by the small brook, which lead to a lake in the nearby valley. If she had had half his bravery, would she have been able to save Burresba? It was her fault he had died anyway, and he hadn't deserved such brutal fate, for Burresba had always been a good man, had always taken care of them, and of her mother before them.

She hoped her brother would come back unharmed, and soon. She couldn't bear the thought of losing him. She realized there was something to the group of soldiers she had seen earlier. The way the old man had stared in her direction, she could feel his black, almost dead looking stare piercing in her back, so realistically, she wondered whether he had actually seen her.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

He kept his firm stride, walking up the brook, squishing emerald grass that was still moist with morning dew under his black leather boots. He knew he was gaining on them, fast. He marvelled on the thought that the pace he was gaining them in, was absurd. It almost seemed as if they were waiting for him, or worse, actually following him instead of the other way around. Was it possible? Of course. Was it plausible? He didn't like to think so.

Gular tried to read their energy but found himself unable to. All he could pick up was an aura that emitted something he recognized. He wondered whether he knew them even if it was rather unlikely to begin with.

He wondered why the thought even crossed his mind. He couldn't put his finger on it but there was something peculiar going on!

By the foot of an ancient deciduous tree, an Arlu, he halted. They were close, very close. He was sure he could have a closer look from up the tree.

His hand-palms gripped the rough bark, and then he pulled himself up. He moved out further away from the trunk, to see what the warriors below looked like, to listen to what they were saying. He moved further, onto branches that became slighter and slighter, until he came to a point where the branches had become twigs and were too frail to hold the weight of a grown man, a man he didn't realize he had become.

He fell down.

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Author's Note: In the next episode there will be some turmoil!

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	9. Tale 6 Fall For It

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Six ---Fall For It---**  
Rating: T**

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"Did Furiiza-sama kill my mother?" the Saiyajin Prince asked.

"I'm not allowed to talk about it, Vejiita-Ouji," Nappa replied. The Saiyajin child enclosed his small but powerful fingers around the other Saiyajin's collar. "By whose order?"

"The Lord King's."

Young Vejiita let go of Nappa's collar. "Then I'm ordering you to talk about it anyway," Vejiita said indignantly.

"No can't do," Nappa responded weakly. "I can only tell you that Furiiza probably has a hidden agenda about it."

"What's a hidden agenda?" Vejiita asked, crossing his arms in frustration over not getting many answers, only more questions.

"I don't know," said Nappa.

"What do you think Furiiza-sama is up to?" Vejiita wondered.

"I don't know," said Nappa again.

"Do you ever think for yourself, you moron?" Vejiita snapped.

"I just do as I am told."

They sat in silence for a very long time.

Although Vejiita was too young, and Nappa too foolish to understand, both of them knew something was brewing.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Gular fell, and landed in front of boots that undoubtedly belonged to an Ilrindûmé soldier. He looked up, meeting with the soldier fitting in to those lace-up boots. The soldier was big, and rather nasty looking with relatively grotesque features. His nose was long and crooked and his ebon eyes were hidden deeply in the sockets. His face looked like it had been eaten away by years of severe ulcerating. Gular swallowed, and looked beyond the man's face, to see who were the ones that surrounded him at this very moment. He knew these were the soldiers his sister had noted earlier.

"What do we have here?" the warrior to the far right said scornfully. His grey hair fluttered on the wind and looked substantially sleeker than Gular had ever seen on any male before. His grey mane indicated an old age but his face contradicted such assumption. His armour glimmered boldly in reflection to the morning-star that shone behind him in the sapphire sky. He wore a black armada cloak and considering the medals and decorations he wore, Gular believed he was their leader.

"Don't know; he doesn't look like a Healer. But he sure isn't one of us, Ou-sama." One of the soldiers replied, his voice cracking and hoarse.

"Can I kill him anyway?" the soldier that stood nearest to Gular commented, his fat cheeks pulling into a smirk.

"No, you oblivious twat. I have other intentions for this young insurgent."

Opposing the leader's wishes, the overweight soldier protested aloud. "But Darken…"

His grey haired superior pulled his lips into a snarl, evidently trying to keep his composure. "Never again call me by my name again if you wish to see the length of daylight. I shall kill you myself if you make one last gaffe."

The soldier nodded and stood to attention for just an instant before turning to the shorter fighter next to him, mumbling something in the likes of 'what's a gaffe?'

_But Darken… Darken? _

Gular had heard of this name. Apparently the Overlord of Ilrindûmé liked to name himself after the conspirator that had caused the downfall of all Dragons. Gular was certain said conspirator had been killed during the final amends ending the Great War. This couldn't be that very same person, could it?

"Get up, and tell me who you are."

Gular looked at the man who was supposedly called Darken and scrambled to his feet.

"It doesn't matter who I am. You're trespassing and I want you to leave. Now." His red eyes revealed no sense of hesitation or fear and he folded his arms with great confidence.

"What assertion for a Healer. Ain't he the confident one, Ambroze?" a short though burly soldier said.

"He sure is!" the overweight, ulcerating soldier replied, and laughed.

Young Gular had difficulty keeping his cool. The boy was growing increasingly annoyed by the soldiers' attitudes. He knew they were stronger than ordinary Ilrindûmé soldiers but he could feel how the dragon inside of him roared in presence of this foursome. "You have no idea," he said sardonically.

Ambroze turned to him, his dark eyes filled with confusion and restricted anger. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The red haired boy narrowed his eyes though refused saying a word, agitating the soldiers even more.

"Let me crush this brat, Overlord." Ambroze sneered, "I promise you, I will squash him in the palm of my hand."

"Ambroze," the Overlord began, waiting for the grotesque soldier to look at him, "I will only say this once… let the boy finish his drivel for it might still be interesting what he has to say."

Ambroze didn't understand what his leader was getting at. Commonly, they destroyed dissenters the moment they laid eyes upon them, no questions asked. He wondered why this time things would be different, he wondered why Darken refused to let him kill the little monster, he wondered why Darken was angry with him.

Darken turned towards the boy, much to Ambroze's displeasure, and spoke. "My apologies for the rude initial encounter." He bowed before the boy, waving his cloak along with him gracefully. "Darken is the name, Overlord of Chikura-sei, Leader of Ilrindûmé, rightful inhabitants of this wartorn land." Gular kept his glare, though felt confused inside. Their leader didn't sound half as hostile as his combatants. "And to ensure we make a correct acquaintance, who might you be?"

Perhaps it was a combination of revelation, anger and curiosity, none would ever know why Gular told this sinister man who he actually was. "I am Gular—"

The name resounded in Darken's head for at least a dozen times. His eyes grew with shock. He had assumed it, yes. But he would never have thought the boy would still be alive after years and years of Ryuuguu holocaust, hunting down every last one of the Chikurajin that had even the slightest bond with the royal family. And here he was, face to face with the rightful heir to the throne, none other.

"Descendant of Fuhen no Ryuu, Eternal Guardians and Gods of Dragons. I am Gular, Prince of Chikurajin, King of Mortals Amongst Dragons, those that have lived here for centuries, those you chose to hunt down and kill."

"Hold on now," Darken protested, interrupting the boy, "This is all a misunderstanding, my dear friend."

The three soldiers Darken had under his wing looked at least as confused as Gular himself did. "What do you mean?" the boy wondered.

Darken knew he was in a rather complicated predicament. He had been personally responsible for the downfall of the entire royal epoch. He had wiped out the Ryuujin ancestry, allegedly including the princely children of Ryuuguu: young Gular and Uyra.

The Overlord doubted the boy knew he was the culprit of the king's assassination. He had no intention of telling him, either.

Then again, what if the boy did know? Could he be easily manipulated, or wasn't he as foolhardy as King Vaerr had been? Something moved in his brain and he smirked underneath his stony face.

"Fourteen years ago, Black Death had come to its dreadful head. I, as leader of the king's Royal Guard, was thought to be challenging the imperialistic views of the king. However, there is not a word of truth in it. I for one supported the king's decisions. A small group within the Royal Guard held different scrutiny upon the matter. They plotted against the king, and no matter how hard I tried to stop them, rebellion was fact." Darken looked at the boy, and guessing from his reaction, there wasn't a doubt in his mind this youth was Gular, Child of Ryuuguu, son of that fool Vaerr.

"The rebellion was a success…" Darken continued, noticing he would have to stay in-character if he wanted to pull off the scheme of not being a conspirator. "And unfortunate truth was, the King and Queen had not survived the onslaught, no matter how hard I fought to defend them. The rebellion itself had its weaknesses and they were searching for a leader strong enough to keep them together. A leader such as myself."

Gular frowned. "But I thought you just said you FOUGHT the rebellion?"

Darken wetted his lips, pretending to be unnerved by Gular's powerful stare. "I did, vigorously even. But the imperial calm had to be restored. Therefore, I hadn't much of a choice. My goal is now, to restore Chikura-sei to its once so proud setting." He smirked dimly and turned towards his soldiers. "And how can we achieve this objective?"

"By silencing up those ignorant and rebellious Sanûmé!" the three replied in chorus.

"You… no!" Gular disputed in anger, "You kill the innocent and ravish villages, plundering everything within sight. I know who you are! Burresba…"

"Burresba was a traitor," Darken told him, deadpan.

His eyes grew with astonishment and Gular stared for a moment. "How…? How do you know?" he stammered. "Why?"

Darken nodded once, closing his eyes briefly. "I will tell you why, Gular-Ouji," he said. Then, the Overlord began to explain.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The night was young. King Vejiita and some of his royal advisors had left for a meeting with none other than Furiiza. Nappa and several Royal Guards patrolled the Saiyajin stronghold to keep the royal children safe. Nappa knew that although Vejiita was young, he was strong enough to defend himself. The problem with Prince Vejiita however, was that he chronically overrated himself. Prince Vejiita would never pull back. If there would be anyone foolish enough to want to harm the Lord King's offspring, they would have to go through the Royal Guard and Nappa. No Saiyajin would ever so much as consider such a thing, but Nappa wasn't too sure about Furiiza and his men. Of the things Yam had told him, Nappa recalled the look in Furiiza's eyes best. Yam had described them with such passion that Nappa was convinced Furiiza did in fact hate the Saiyajin to his core.

But why would anyone hate the Saiyajin?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"So, if I get this right…" Gular pondered, "Burresba wanted to have us killed?"

"Exactly. And know that he almost succeeded…"

Gular shook his head; he couldn't believe it.

Darken was cleanly manipulating Gular. Gular himself didn't notice, his inquisitive nature overtaking his cautious mind. Curiosity killed the cat, didn't it always?  
It was as if all the horrible things this Darken had put him and his family through had been forgotten as if they had never happened. Perhaps this was due to Gular himself, as he had always pushed away the horrors he had seen as a young child. And he had been only a child, after all. All the faces looked the same, all the memories intertwined and Gular was unable to filter truth from fiction anymore. Then, as if the voice came out of nowhere, Darken's words blazed through his mind.

"Say, are you still listening?"

Gular looked at him, nodding.

Darken smirked. "What do you make of this: you and I, rebuilding these barren lands into the glorious realm it used to be. You as my right-hand, and heir to the Chikura-jin throne will finally redeem the promise you made your father, will you not? Once the people are ready for it, the monarchy can finally be restored."

Ambroze rubbed his chin and frowned, contemplating his leader's words.  
"But Overlord," he protested, "I thought I was your right-hand."

Darken sighed and placed a hand on his brow, right between his eyes.  
"You are my left-hand, nincompoop."  
Darken's dark eyes riveted on the young Prince again. "And once more bringing our people to the top, were they are supposed to be. Rebuilding our world, leading the Circle of Spirits as was long ago predicted. We will reclaim our place in the Surreal, young prince."

Gular blinked.  
_As part of their group I can finally become a true warrior. I will be able to walk the path my parents intended for me, and rebuild father's realm as he had asked me to. _

Prince Gular genuinely liked the idea, figuring even if these soldiers were his enemy a common goal could unite them. He answered Darken's question with honesty, ignoring the words of doubt that were screamed in the back of his head.

"On one condition..."

He looked at Darken, who nodded briefly, in response. "…That I can wear an outfit that's only half as silly as the ones you guys are wearing!"

The soldiers looked confused and made a face and fell to the ground, feet up.

Embarrassed, Darken rubbed his eyebrow and turned red, he moved his hand to the back of his head before he replied. "Um, sure kid, you are the prince."

Again, something moved in Darken's brain, wanting to stab the young prince more than anything. It subsided again when Darken realized he had a great use for this foolish boy.

Gular followed the warriors and their leader back to base camp, in a western direction. The boy was so eager he completely forgot about his sibling.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"I wonder how Gular is doing," Uyra said to herself as she was making his bed.

The cavern looked emptier than usual and to Uyra it seemed as if Gular had been away for ages. She frowned, and straightened. How long had he been out anyway? She went outside and looked at the sun, which had already passed the three mountain ridges in the distance. He had been away for at least three hours and she hadn't even noticed!

Still she thought best not to contact him so tried to put her mind at ease. Gular was a clever boy who would never do anything rash. He had probably strayed off or had met a cute girl from the village. Perhaps even, he went to get some herbs for her at a local market or in the woods, something he often did when on patrol. There wasn't anything for her to really worry about.

She set aside her worries and decided to practice some defensive kata. She sat down in the dense grass and took off her sandals, focusing on her breathing for a while. She stood, and brushed the dew off her dress. The pale haired girl smiled to herself. She parted her feet somewhat, lifting one leg aside her body to work on her balance. While doing so she stretched her arms alongside her head, moving them down slowly. She stood like that for quite a while before starting her meditative routine of defensive martial arts. She pushed her hands forward, one at a time, guiding them over her head, and back, and finally to her sides. Her movements were slow and elegant and became quicker and harder to follow as time passed. She moved her arms in a bird-like way, ever so slowly. She threw a foot forward and kicked, followed by several punches. Flowing out of that kick she made a graceful backflip before sliding down into a split, wielding two flat hands forward in a thrusting but otherwise very refined movement.

"Help us, please!"

Although she did not recognize the voice, she jumped up immediately, to see where the cry had come from. As she turned to see the source of the words, she noticed a young girl who looked very afraid, her hair as pale as her own.

"Who are you? What's wrong?"

The girl approached slowly and kneeled before Uyra. "Your highness," she spoke, "We are your loyal subjects. We ask you humbly for protection…"

Uyra grimaced. "Wait a minute," she protested. "Highness? We? Protection?" She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

The girl looked up to Uyra confusedly. "I… I don't understand…"

Uyra crouched next to her. "Let's begin with the beginning; you were calling for help."

Her name was Cyane. She, her tot brother Fringe, and her grandmother Dyla were in hiding for the Overlord. All were Sanûmé by birth, all had pale hair and the brightest eyes Uyra had ever seen. Cyane and Dyla were priestesses; though this wasn't the main reason the Overlord pursued them. The Overlord pursued them for the simple reason they were one of the last pure-blooded Healers in the area.

Overlord Darken was a malignant army commander who had worked himself up to lord and master of Chikura-sei by means of a revolution, overthrowing the leadership of a good Kingship.

To Darken this was by far unsatisfactory. By his bidding, thousands and thousands of Sanûmé Chikurajin were driven from their houses, murdered, raped and executed.

According to Cyane these plans grew even further in the shape of an elaborate plot to collect foreign genetic material of alien species. Species beyond their imagination, and abducting females from other planets that would be able to bear and foster genetically enhanced infants in a way Darken would want them to, simply to enforce the Ilrindûmé bloodline.

Cyane had spoken for at least four hours and Uyra wondered where Gular was hanging out. What alarmed her was the fact Gular did not respond to telepathy and she couldn't locate him. Where was he, what had happened, why couldn't she reach him!

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Author's Note: Oh no! Why is Gular falling for Darken's trap? Or isn't he...? Or are the Healers up to no good?

Hm, and what's this genetic material thing? Is it edible? Find out in the next episode: Vejiitasei.

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	10. Tale 7 Vejiitasei

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Seven ---Vejiitasei--- **  
Rating: T**

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It didn't take long before Gular was accepted. Darken allowed his soldiers to test the boy, as the latter was not acknowledged as Prince of Ilrindûmé even if Darken's word was not challenged openly. Darken had assured them years ago thew Ryuuguu ancestry had been destroyed, after all.

Eventually Gular was part of the Ilrindûmé, and was considered equal to Darken. Difference was, Darken was feared and Gular was considered a friend.

Darken remained indifferent to such knowledge as he controlled Gular, manipulated his thoughts, and told him what to do.

Darken needed Gular's genes. Gular was Son of Ryuuguu, Gular was descendant of the Ryuujin and Darken knew his children would surpass him in strength. The Overlord needed to control Gular's possible offspring and would raise them to be unequalled warriors.

The only thing that might thwart his intentions was Gular's sister for she would not be so easily manipulated and could convince Gular of the same. If so, he would kill her mercilessly.

What Darken wanted from Gular was more than just his gene pool.

Before this time, even millennia ago, Darken had already lived, and had already been known as the Hakaisha even if such understanding had evaporated for long by now.

He had teamed up in an uprising against the Highest of All, Murass, with beings that called themselves the Super Saiyajin. Back then, they had inhabited a place called Saiya-sei and during this Great War their homeplanet was destroyed, along with most of the inhabitants. Few survived and they incorporated this Great War in their legends, including word of their traitor, one they called Surlaiya –he who adapts to all.

Surlaiya: a horned creature that could take form of a scaled beast with rows and rows of blood-spattered fangs. Surlaiya: the Dragons, the Chikuran.

Darken could not risk an all-out onslaught upon himself and he was certain none of his soldiers were strong enough to withstand such massacre. His plans included acquiring as much elite Saiyajin genetics as possible. Darken's scientists had a word for this genetic material, which could be extracted from blood the easiest. They called it Deoxyribo Nucleic Acid, or DNA. Darken needed Saiyajin DNA. He needed their adaptability, their brute strength, their strategic superiority. He needed a Super Saiyajin.

One of the Saiyajin survivors of the Great War was a woman called Vejiita. She was the last Super Saiyajin in existence, therefore considered highest of all Saiyajin, consequently she became the Saiyajin no Joou, Queen of Saiyajin.

However, people that called themselves Tsufurujin inhabited their new homeworld. The Saiyajin waged up a war against these natives and drove them off to the far outskirts of Prant-sei, renaming the planet to Vejiita, in honour of their Queen.

Each firstborn offspring in royalty would carry that very name and after weakening for centuries, they were now growing more powerful by each generation that followed. Darken realized that it wouldn't be long before a new generation of Super Saiyajin would rise, claiming their part of the universe. The next generation would undoubtedly be lead by a Saiyajin who would carry the name of Vejiita.

What Gular had to do was to find this firstborn of Saiyajin royalty, the one they called Vejiita! Darken knew only Gular would be able to carry out such a perilous task. For how long would it be until the Super Saiyajin would wake from their slumber once more?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"Rise and shine, everybody! Morning has come!"

Dyla's voice cheered in an echo through the deep cavern, ringing in Uyra's head.

There was a slight movement from the girl's bed; she stretched and grumbled, muttering. "I'll rise all right, but I'll be _damned_ if I'm gonna shine."  
She stood and rubbed her eyes, eventually looking in the alert eyes of both Dyla and Cyane, who had undoubtedly been awake for hours.

"I've always been a morning person," Uyra said, "but this is ridiculous."

Uyra staggered to the exit of the cave, only half-conscious of her surroundings. She almost stumbled over Cyane's brother as the toddler suddenly rushed inside, calling for his grandmother. "Baachan! Baachan, what's for breakfast!"

Uyra turned and looked at the boy, then at his grandmother when the woman replied in a caring voice. "Pancakes with jam, my dear." The woman put a hand on her grandchild's head and smiled.

Uyra shook her head and strolled outside, yawning. _No reason to be that cheerful when it's THAT early_, she thought, tetchily.

She wasn't sure whether she should be so happy about her new roommates and wondered where her brother was.

When she looked to her right, all she saw was an endless carpet of green valleys and trees that blossomed. That is, until she looked up.

She rushed inside. "Cyane," she asked, catching her breath, "Did you see those… those…" Only now did she realize she had no idea what the things she had seen actually were.

"Capsules," Cyane filled in, "Yes, I saw them."

"Well, what are they?"

Cyane looked at Uyra expressionless. "Those are Ilrindûmé capsules. It's begun."

Uyra frowned and found she was getting angry, and in fact losing her patience. "What's begun!"

The young priestess took a handful of wooden plates and walked past Uyra, ignoring the girl's question. Silently, Cyane set the plates on a large stump that acted as table.

Irritated, Uyra stormed after her, though decided against it as soon as she was outside. The sun was rising and she decided to climb up a ledge to look out over the land. Perhaps from up the ledge she could see what these things Cyane called capsules actually were.

Uyra leaned her chin in her hands and sighed.

_What am I supposed to do? Why did everybody leave me? Why hasn't Gular returned? Where could he be? _

She looked in the distance, where the land was being covered in a bath of sunlight, illuminating the skies and causing the birds to sing gayly. Gular wasn't dead. She knew he wasn't dead. But she couldn't just go look for him, could she? She stood out far more than Gular ever had, with her pale eyes, the way she moved, the sound of her voice that was enthralling and mysterious. Oh, she knew she stood out. But she also knew Gular wasn't dead.

_And what should I do? What should I do to make it right? If only Kaasan had still been alive!_

_  
_She decided to try telepathy once more. She sat upright and closed her eyes, focusing her thoughts.

She saw a man, a man that resembled her brother but it couldn't possibly be him. His hair was pulled backwards, and he wore armour and leather boots that were as dark as a black tree. He held a helmet under one arm and had a long double bladed sword sheathed in an ornamented leather case that was strapped to his waist.

He saluted his superior, then shook the other man's pale hand. It was as if Uyra could see through his eyes when she saw the army commander. No doubt in her mind told her that this man was Darken. The Overlord, it had to be him. He looked frighteningly dangerous, his eyes were dark and to Uyra, they appeared to hold no life, as if these were the eyes of a doll, a monster. In shock, she lost contact and found herself unable to relocate where the image had come from. She sighed, lost in thoughts.

What was Cyane talking about when she said 'capsules'? What did she mean when she said it had begun?

"The capsules are devices that can be shot into space and can travel at a speed that is beyond your imagination, no doubt. Those are Ilrindûmé saucers. The Ilrindûmé are going to execute the first stages of their breeding program now."

Bewildered, Uyra looked up to Cyane who now stood behind her. She wondered how long the girl had been standing there, and she wondered how it was possible this strange girl knew what she had been thinking.

Cyane sat down next to Uyra before she continued her explanation. "Not only are they going to collect alien DNA – or genetic material – but they will also try to abduct alien women to birth them."

Uyra looked at the horizon again. One by one, the capsules vanished above the cloud cover that hovered over the tranquil heavens. She wondered why she hadn't noticed when Cyane had approached her, she wondered how long the girl had stood there before actually talking to her. And why did she herself seem to resemble them so much?

But more than that, she wondered what the images she had seen earlier meant. Had the youth she had seen been Gular? Was he in danger?

Quietly, she followed Cyane back to the cavern's entrance to have breakfast in the early morning sun.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The golden morning star, alike the sun, began to shimmer and chased away the clouds that marred the infinite azure skies the other sun had been guarding at the brink of sunrise.

The sand was dry and flew up in tiny blurs of dust as his boots dove into the sinuous ground. To him, the pattern he left in the sand nearly resembled an ocean, flowing upon the breeze that carried about the very few blossoms that were left. Today was the day he would finally begin making things better for his kin. Today was the day he would make life better for all of them.

"Ready?"

Gular looked up, his ruby eyes looking up wondrously. "Sure am," he answered tersely.

The older man opposite him smiled, though his lips were pulled more into a smirk now that Gular thought about it. The boy looked away. It wasn't like Gular could blame Darken for smirking, for he was at least as excited as the men that were actually riding out into new worlds, for they were in search of a way to enforce a dying breed of Dragons, to enable themselves and their kindred to survive.

He looked at Darken once more before turning away. He walked up the board to embark the space-capsule he had been allotted, and closed the hood behind him. The sound of metal and engine welcomed him, the sound of technology he couldn't even remember from childhood. Chikurajin hadn't left this planet since they had arrived here, which was now at least several thousand years ago. He wondered how the Ilrindûmé, and foremost, how Darken had acquired such advanced technology whilst such expertise had been lost for centuries. As far as Gular knew, such technology had been forbidden by the Council of the Highest Dragon many thousands of years before he had even been born. Then again, perhaps such law had never even existed. Gular had come to terms with the fact not everything his mother had told him was based on truth, so maybe the same could be ascertained for space travel.

He missed his sister, though. But there was no time for reunions now.

He sat in the driver's seat and tried to relax, even if he knew he wouldn't be able to. His heart was racing, his body surging with adrenalin. He was finally doing it! He was finally doing as he had promised his father.

"Oi Red!"

Gular looked next to him, seeing his companion in travel. The dark haired man grinned and poked Gular in his arm. "Bett'r skoot and lemme fly this baby, Red." He grinned as he'd said that and waited for Gular to sit next to the driver's seat. "This lill lady's very sensi-tive, you see," the dark haired Ilrindûmé explained in his rather peculiar accent, smiling almost ridiculously.

Gular nodded absentmindedly, looking how his companion pushed a number of buttons, pulled on some switches and brought the ship airborne. "Parz," Gular asked, getting a 'hm' in return, "What kind of people live on Vejiita-sei?"

"Aye, they're bout 7 foot tall, have no less than six legs an' big beady eyes. Why?" He laughed.

Gular stared at Parz incredulously. "Are you serious?"

The dark haired man rolled his eyes and snickered. "Course not, twit," he said mockingly, "From wha I hear, there's two races livin' out there. One's weak but techno-logic'ly high-ly advanced, the other's the good ol' strong, vindictive type."

Gular blinked, a worrisome expression on his face. "I see," he whispered.

Catching the boy's expression, Parz laughed inwardly. "Aye, not to worry lad. Ain't nothin' we can't handle. Methinks these Saiyajin, as the strong sort is called, is but a bunch of braindead maniacs withou' any pre-limina-ry skill of plannin' or strata-gem. I reckon the Overlord wishes to collect their Dee aN A (or was that Diana?) for ex-perimen-tal use on-ly."

"If you say so, Parz."

"Aye," the man said, "I says so." Then, Parz folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Gular leaned back, wanting nothing more than to sleep. All day had he ardently looked out the pane, which presented an outlook over the world around him; a world of black, a world of infinite star systems, lunar satellites, asteroids and other planetary leftovers that blended endlessly with the vast compound of space, a world in the likes he could never have imagined.

He simply had to get some sleep, as an important mission lay ahead of him. A mission he had to accomplish because he hadn't much of a choice either. If he would fail, he'd be unable to complete the wishes of his ancestors to rebuild the extensive realm the Ryuujin had always safeguarded. If he'd fail, he wouldn't have kept the promises he made years ago.

"Parz," said Gular, "What do you know of the Saiyajin firstborn?"

Parz shrugged and without opening his eyes, he answered. "No'h much, Red…" He chewed the inside of his cheek, then coughed. "All the Overlord said was to collect elite Saiyajin Dee aN A, I think he said we had to collect their blood. Aye, that's what he'd said: to collect elite blood samples, or… somethin'."

Gular frowned; frustrated he wasn't able to learn anything new as he had already known basics of the mission. "But what about the firstborn?"

"Bett'r let me finish, lad. I wasn't actually." The dark haired Chikurajin laughed loudly. "The firstborn's still an infant, that's all I know. Overlord Darken refused telling much more than that." Again, Parz laughed, more out of habit than anything else. "Sorry, lad."

"So how can we enforce our breed with blood?"

Parz turned away from Gular, showing the latter his back. "I'm not a scientist, Red. I overheard something in the likes of creating warriors by different types of blood, and letting a breed called Humans bear them, whatever those are, and whatever why. Can't say I'm sure whatever that means." He mumbled something Gular didn't understand, and when the boy attempted to find out what it had been, Parz grunted, wanting to be left alone.

The red haired boy sighed, then stood, walking around nervously. He still was unable to catch any sleep.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Nappa didn't like being sent away by order of the King. But Nappa always did as he was told, even if it meant going on missions he didn't feel he was ready for. He had sworn to Yam that he would always protect her son and never leave the boy's side. Now he was forced to leave his side to go on a mission and the lord king made it sound like he should be pleased to be given such opportunity, to learn some leadership skills and make his elite heritage to good use.

But Nappa did not care about any of that right now. Yam had ordered him to be a babysit and a babysit he would be, whether he liked it or not.

Nappa smiled to himself. What could happen during his small absence? The mission would take no more than two months, he was sure of it. And perhaps he could take young Vejiita with him on future missions! He was sure the lord king would like the idea if young Vejiita would come up with it. Oh hoo hoo, sometimes, Nappa felt very devious and smart.

And, he was sure to enjoy this mission. He hadn't been far from the stronghold since Vejiita-Ouji had still been a baby.

Little did Nappa know that he would never see Vejiita-sei again, and would meet with Vejiita years later, to become his guardian once more.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She looked up to the rough ceiling that made out the upper perimeter of the cavern. Stalactites and small nicks where bats and insects hid made out the shape, and Uyra could see the crystals in the rock ceiling glisten like the stars in a night sky.

In such nightly stillness, a voice echoed. A voice that uttered words Uyra could not understand. It grew nearer, louder.

:.:Where are you:.:

Only then did Uyra recognize the voice. It was her own, and she realized she was once again attempting to contact her lost brother. She wondered why she hadn't noticed her brain incorporating upon telepathy for at least the twentieth time this week.

:.:Where are you? I miss you so…:.:

She sighed. She knew it would be of no use. For some reason Gular was either unreachable or simply refusing to listen.

She sat up calmly, folding her knees under her chin. She wondered how her brother was doing. She wondered whether she wasn't imagining his presence, for she felt as if he were near.

:Uyra? Is that you:

She arched her back and looked up, not believing what she'd just heard. _:.:Gular, are you there:.:_

:Hai. Are you okay? Should I sent one of my men to pick you up:

Uyra paused, walking out of the cave, not necessarily to find a better reach but mostly just to let the cool breeze that blew outside the cavern calm her.

:.:One of your men? Gular, what do you mean? I do not understand.:.:

A long pause followed on the other side, and for a frightful instant, Uyra thought he was no longer responding. Then, Gular did reply, saying words Uyra had feared for long.

:I joined the Ilrindûmé forces. The Overlord everyone speaks of may be strict but he's fair, and willing to take his chances to bring back the glory that once shone down on all Chikura.:

:.:No! They're evil! Gular, please, tell me that isn't true.:.:

Afraid her brother was actually serious, Uyra began walking around nervously, waiting for response of her brother, which came eventually.

:You're wrong. You don't understand…:

Uyra knit her brow, baring her teeth. _:.:You're the one who's mistaken! The Ilrindûmé are kidnapping alien women for Therin knows what purposes! You think they're coming voluntarily:.:_

The girl could hear her brother sighing, and the frustration was present in his words. _:I don't care. At least we're doing something to prevent us from extinction, I wouldn't be able to say the same of those weakling Healers…:_

_:.:But Gular…:.:_ Uyra knew she was losing contact, she knew Gular planned on breaking off contact, and it hurt. It hurt to know she was losing her brother. He never answered, and Uyra tried for hours to get back in touch with the boy, futilely.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

He kept his eyes closed, even though he wasn't asleep. He was waiting for the time for him to proceed, to fulfil his task, to acquire what he had to. It was hard for him to concentrate at this point. He was excited and restless, he was impatient and eager to do what he must do.

"We're there," he heard Parz remark. Slowly, Gular opened his eyes, and curiosity overtook him as he stood and rushed towards the sole pane the vessel had. It was a beautiful sight, daunting, ominous and mesmerizing all at once. The orb was a red planet, as red as blood, the foreboding colour of death. To Gular, it seemed still, tranquil even, and he wondered whether the tales Parz had told him were true.

He leaned his hand against the windowsill and sighed, in an attempt to calm his rampant mind.

"Vejiita-sei," the red haired boy said to himself, letting the name sink into his thoughts, trailing off in an endless number of notions and ideas on what the Saiyajin would be like. He wondered why the planet was called Vejiita-sei, why the people called themselves the Saiyajin.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: Gular is actually going through with this? Why does he trust Darken, and why doesn't Uyra trust him? What will happen on Vejiita-sei?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x


	11. Tale 8 Saiyajin Firstborn

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Eight ---Saiyajin Firstborn--- **  
Rating: T**

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

He turned, to see Parz working on all sorts of tranquillisers and adjusting the test tubes that were placed upon the belt he had strapped across his torso. He held a stunning rifle in his left arm, and a large syringe needle strapped to the inside of his right wrist.

Parz smirked, finding Gular's puzzlement rather amusing. "It's not as hard as ye think, lad…" he assured Gular, "Inject a tran-quillisin' fluid into the ar-tery o' the neck in one quick thrust. Then, as the Saiyajin is drifting out o' conscious-ness, ye insert the needle and extract a test-tube of blood from one of the upper arms. Ye can find the veins o' the arm at the in-side near the el-bow. As far as I know, they're bluish on Saiyajin."

The black haired soldier laughed, took another needle, screwed a test-tube he took off his belt into it, then tossed it to Gular.

_Easier said than done…_ the boy thought.

Still quite dumbfounded, Gular caught the syringe needle and looked at it in stupefaction. He knew what he had to do, but he had never given much thought as to HOW he had to collect the blood sample.

Parz opened the hood of the space vessel and rushed out. Before he left Gular's sight, he turned one last time. "If I don't make it back before sunrise," he spoke, "leave without me!"

Gular nodded. "Good luck, Parz!"

In the distance, Gular heard Parz laughing. "Lock," he said mockingly, "I dun need no lock!"

Parz needed no luck for Parz needed strength, or perhaps he even needed cunning, to outsmart these Saiyajin.

Gular looked down to his hand-palm in which he still had the needle clenched. He opened his hand, looked at the empty test-tube, then closed his hand into a tight fist and rushed out of the vessel, eager to get this mission over with.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The night wind blew softly, carrying off pods and seeds to the outskirts of the world. This world was different from the one Gular was used to. Despite the lack of nutrients Chikura-sei suffered from, his home world seemed much more lush than this planet, Vejiita-sei. Sole vegetation existed of brittle bushes and tall grass of which leaves and stems were covered with rows and rows of jagged thorns. Gular could tell there were animals in the vicinity, both carnivorous as well as herbivorous.

Even though the composition in the air of oxygen and other gasses was very different, as was the gravity, Gular had no trouble moving and rushed to where –as far as he knew- the palace of Vejiita-sei was located.

It did not take long before the first signs of civilization appeared at the horizon. A massive collection of walls, roofs and roads formed the outskirts of a municipal of some sort. Centred in this massive metropolis were the compounds of a colossal, erect building. Gular had always thought of his Ryuuguu to be the greatest stronghold he had ever seen but compared to the Saiyajin Palace, Ryuuguu was but a measly dwelling.

He would have to enter the city unnoticed, and more than that; he had to sneak into the palace and gather a blood sample of the Royal Family's firstborn. He swallowed, and held on tighter to the cloak he had on when the cold breeze that blew at the border of this city made him shiver.

Gular knew he wouldn't have too much trouble in passing the Saiyajin guards, even if they looked to be carrying a device that could register approaching life-forces. The device covered one of their eyes and from what Gular could tell it read the energy emitted by any living creature. He reckoned that as long as none of the guards pointed the device directly at him, there would be enough Saiyajin in the city to distract them from his presence.

In any case, he would have to risk it.

He pulled the cloak tighter, its cap pulled close over his face, his glistening eyes that betrayed his Chikurajin night vision hidden in shadows.

As he had approached the city's outer walls, he concentrated on his breathing and pulled his hands near his chest, almost meditating. Then, he bent through his knees, jumped up an astounding length to barely grasp the upper edge of the thick fortification wall.

He was in the city! Now however, the hardest part was still ahead of him.

Moving in the darkness of shadow, and slipping in between walls of buildings and abandoned barracks, he was soon to reach the palace of Vejiita-sei.

Up close, this Saiyajin fortress was even greater than he had first thought. The walls were thick and fortified, covered in spikes of some sort of metal alloy that seemed to be dispensed as the building's shield.

He would have to come up with a scheme in order to enter the fortress safely. Namely, he could not afford being discovered, and he would have to be able to look around to find the King's firstborn.

He looked about him, his lit-up eyes searching. Gular needed a disguise, as he was too noticeable with his profound horns that arched up out of his skull, and his blazing red hair.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

In the darkness of night they moved in almost unison, these two small groups of guards marching silently in opposite direction.

None of them wore helmets or any other armour that would enable Gular to conceal his horns, thereby hiding the biggest disclosure of him not being Saiyajin, of him being an intruder.

He skulked without sound, treading softly around the palace compounds. He searched for a way to sneak into the palace but what if no opportunity would arise?

As he began to wonder about other possibilities of achieving his eventual goal the dancing flame of a torch caught his attention. Casting shadows upon a nearby tent, that was part of the barracks situated to the west of the palace the flame danced ceaselessly, burning with dominion. The shadow. The shadow was the key! He followed the sinister shapes of a man inside his tent, a man who walked in tiny circles, and eventually sat down, taking off what seemed a helmet!

It would be a matter of time. All Gular needed was a little more time. Confidently, he approached the tent, his hand gripping one side of the cloth hanging in front of the tent's entrance.

"Hey!" a voice behind him hollered, "Who are you?"

Shit. He had been discovered. In a whirl, Gular turned and punched the unfortunate soldier as rigidly as he possibly could without killing him, or worse… alarming the other soldiers.

The soldier fell back, losing his balance, and was knocked against a rather odd looking tree, it seemed a tree that was made of stone, at least, to Gular it seemed that way as it wore but grim downwards hanging leaves that were more dead than alive. The only sound the poor soldier emitted, or seemed to emit, was the cracking of his skull.

He was dead; he had to be. Nobody could survive such blow to the head, so hard that one could hear the cracking of his skull.

Gular didn't understand. From what Parz had told him, and the few things he had picked up from Darken, Saiyajin had strong bones, and could break rocks with their heads. Then why had he just heard such loud cracking of bone?

He turned around, unable to face the corpse of the youthful soldier anymore.

The tearing sound of something breaking filled the night sky once again, causing Gular to frown. He turned his head slightly, trying to listen more closely.

Then, the old tree dropped, landing its rock hard trunk on Gular's head.

His eyes grew to large proportions and he stared for a moment.

"Ichichi!" he yelled eventually.

Alarmed by the sudden noises, the officer in the tent ducked his head out to look what was going on. For an instant, Gular and the officer stared at each other dumbfounded.

Then, Gular forced a smile, hoping the officer wouldn't cry the alarm just yet. The red haired boy focused, trying to read the officer's thoughts.

What he read did not soothe him the least as the officer was planning to wake all soldiers, to look for other possible intruders, wanting to kill them all.

Gular did not want to kill the Saiyajin but saw no other way. He stepped aside, and let the heavy tree fall, on top of the unfortunate commanding officer.

Luckily, the Saiyajin proved to have a skull less fortified than Chikurajin and he was knocked out immediately.

The few options he had were either to tie the two unconscious Saiyajin up or leave them be, down for the count as they were. When tied up other Saiyajin might discover them in next to no time, and call for the alarm at the spot. If he would leave them under the tree, others would simply assume the tree had taken them by surprise, right?

He walked into the tent, taking the helmet that still lay on the desk, as he had seen in the shadowy shapes earlier. He looked in the small locker and noticed the officer had more than just one outfit. He took a regular one, and dressed up as a Saiyajin officer.

Then, Gular rushed out of the tent, moved out of the two out cold soldiers' way quickly, and approached the palace gates soon after.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The metal put up gate was enriched with moulded statues and foundries of monstrous creatures crushing everything underneath their feet as they danced in a moonlit night sky.

Was all these Saiyajin thought of derived from the need for destruction they seemed to hold so dearly?

Gular shuddered at such consideration. He coughed once, getting the attention of the soldiers standing guard aside the gate. Both saluted him and opened the gateway without asking questions.

The disguised Chikurajin entered the courtyard without trouble, then walked up to one of the entrances, preferring the smallest as the enormous stone gates in front reminded Gular of the entrance of Ryuuguu, the one only royalty descended of Ryuujin could pass through. He figured same applied for this entrance, and decided on taking a smaller one. If he would be looked upon strangely for entering the small entrance he would just use the excuse of not wanting to wake the king unnecessarily.

As he was walking through alleyway after alleyway, moving passed immense halls and empty chambers; Gular knew he would need a guide.

After passing the same sleeping palace guard for the third time, he decided to wake him.

"Soldier, why are you off guard?" he scoffed.

The guard woke up with a shock, and took position straight away.

"Sir! It won't happen again, sir!"

Gular narrowed his eyes. And cracked his knuckles, only to frighten the poor guard more.

"Please, sir… I beg of you…"

The soldier's grovelling was almost funny to watch but Gular had more important things to tend to. "I came to check on the King's firstborn."

The guard stared at Gular. "His firstborn? Why her? Why not his son?"

Gular coughed. He didn't understand but knew what orders Darken had given him. He had explicitly told him to collect a blood sample of the Saiyajin Royalty's firstborn, none other. "I've been given strict orders, soldier. I am to check up on the King's firstborn infant. I am only given orders, just like you are," he explained, not quite understanding what the soldier himself was talking about. "Take me there. _Hayaku_!"

"_Kashikamari-mashite_! Yes, sir!"

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Uyra still couldn't sleep. She worried about her brother, she worried about too many things, she knew. What was she to do? Her brother had fallen victim to the treacherous, manipulating Overlord, and there seemed nothing Uyra could do.

What had happened? How could it ever have happened? Uyra didn't know, nor did she understand.

Why had he left without saying goodbye? How could so much have changed in such short time span? She wondered what she had done wrong.

She had tried for so many years to give Gular the life he had deserved. Gular had always protected her, guarded her. And now, without word, or any indication she had been able to pick up, he had left, he had abandoned her.

And it hurt; it hurt to know her brother wouldn't come back for her.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Knowing his disguise had fooled the guard, Gular was lead into the vast corridors of the stronghold with no further hesitation. As the keeper of the King's Royal Guard accompanied him, he marched through the arched corridors within a maze of galleries and chambers before reaching the dormitory hall.

Gular profited of the guard's obvious fear of his officer. It provided him with a greater chance to not be discovered. Even though he had hidden most of his hair, and his horns, he still had fiery red eyes he could only half hide behind the odd looking instrument that provided him with a ton of information on every living creature.

He was in luck that he had the Chikurajin ability of deciphering nearly every possible language he was presented with; unfortunately, such knowledge did not include reading such unknown language. He presumed it were basic facts such as weight, strength, et cetera. He didn't care, he was glad the device hid his eyes at least somewhat.

"Sir, this is where the Saiyajin no Oujo sleeps. Are you certain your orders include the Princess, and not the Saiyajin no Ouji instead?"

Gular sighed. He wondered why the guard was talking about the Saiyajin Prince all the time even though he had been given orders of taking him to the firstborn. "I told you to take me to the King and Queen's firstborn. Is or is not the firstborn the Saiyajin no Oujo?"

"Yes sir. Princess Kaiyl is the firstborn, the Saiyajin no Ouji is the second child the King and Queen had. I'm deeply sorry for questioning your authority, sir. It won't happen again."

"Good."

Gular didn't want to admit how confused he actually was. There were two children, obviously. A boy and a girl; the girl was the eldest but everyone seemed to hold the prince in much higher regard, or at least worried a lot more about the Prince than about his sister.

It didn't make sense! Then again, what did Gular know of the Saiyajin? He had seen there were both men and women in the army, yet in the palace itself he had only seen male guards. Was this but a coincidence? Why was the soldier so hesitant in taking him to the firstborn? Gular wondered, and more, Gular worried.

"Sir," the guard behind him suddenly started, "This is where the firstborn sleeps, I know this. Further down the hall is where the Saiyajin no Ouji sleeps, next to the Saiyajin no Ou's quarters."

Gular glared at the guard. Even though he was pleased to be given such information, he needed to keep up the appearance he was a commanding officer for a reason. "I know that, you idiot. Did I give you permission to talk?"

"No, sir."

"Then shut your mouth," he snapped, trying to keep his voice down. "Go back to your post. And don't let me catch you off guard again or you won't live to tell, understood?"

The guard nodded, bowed before his superior, and marched away in a firm, frightened stride.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The red haired Chikurajin looked at the iron-gripped door. There was a creature painted on it, surrounded by light and explosions.

It looked like a Saiyajin but its hair stood up and shone golden. The creature looked powerful, yet graceful altogether. And more than that, the creature was female!

That had to be the reason the guard was so nervous when he mentioned the firstborn, the Saiyajin Princess. She was just like this creature; she was different, she was strong.

This also had to be the reason Darken had asked for the firstborn's blood sample so specifically.

And that was why the door was so heavy, and kept closed with a thick chain and padlock.

Slowly, he examined the lock, then his eyes shot fire, and the locket melted underneath his touch, unlocking the heavy doors.

He entered the darkened room; sole light a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling, near the window.

In the colossal bed that made up centre of the room, lay a tiny Saiyajin child under a mosquito net. She was asleep as she held her eyes closed, relaxed, her chocolate-brown tail curled up around her as if she were an animal.

Young Gular approached the girl and noticed her peaceful face, her gentle breath, stirring her almost black hair.

Gular swallowed, and took the needle he had been keeping all that time. He tried to remember something about blue veins, and a quick thrust. He knew he was forgetting something. Damn it. He most definitely knew what he had forgotten. He had forgotten to take the tranquillising gun with him! Shit.

He clenched the small cork that had protected the tip of the needle thus far, between his teeth, pulling the needle out.

He searched for a vein on the girl's left arm, then pulled her arm closer to be able to use the needle he was still holding.

In a flash, the child's black eyes flew open, gazing up at him questioningly. She still looked at him sleepily but was obviously very much awake.

In shock, Gular threw his arm back, hiding the needle behind him. He inhaled sharply, and swallowed the cork without thinking.

His eyes grew, and he gagged, trying to get the cork down his throat as he was unable to cough it back up.

The child still looked at him, sitting up calmly.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

Gular blinked, not knowing what to say or do. The Saiyajin girl narrowed her eyes, and by the looks of it prepared to scream. In an instant, Gular strangled her voice by pressing his firm hand against her mouth. "I… well I…" He gagged a second time, finally able to free himself of the cork that was beginning to choke him. The cork flew across the room, shot against the chandelier, and shot back, coming straight for Gular, knocking him over.

The girl still stared, then giggled. "You're silly," she said.

The Chikurajin got up, rubbing his head. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he muttered.

The girl laughed again. "Are you an angel?" She whispered, her voice revealing no fear. "Are you sent to take me to my Okaasan?"  
He was confused, and had no idea what to say. Her pitch-black eyes were locked on his, and she gawked at him, waiting for an answer. Her hair wasn't as dark as he had first thought it was, in fact, her hair was a deep shade of carmine, and for a little girl she had quite a head of hair.

"Are you an angel?" she asked a second time, growing somewhat impatient.

Not knowing what he should do, and realizing what utter moron he was by forgetting to take the stun gun with him, he nodded. "I am. But I can't take you with me unless I have a sample of your blood."

The girl frowned. "I don't believe you," she said confidently, "My _Kaachan_ never told me _that._"

_Shit_, he thought. W_hat should I tell her?_

"Well," he began, "your mother probably thought you'd be scared of needles."

The child looked at Gular and at the needle he revealed, narrowed one eye, raising an eyebrow. She folded her tiny arms. "I'm Saiyajin, I'm not afraid of anything."

Gular took in a gust of air. _Can't beat that, now can I? _He thought.

"Suppose you're an angel," she continued fearlessly, "why would you wear a Saiyajin uniform of just above average commanding rank?"  
She smirked mischievously, knowing she had him cornered.

_She sure is a wiseacre… _Gular had but one option. He had to try, what else could he do? He calmly took off his uniform, showing the child his native's warrior-attire, his fiery red hair, and his arched horns.

The girl could do nothing but stare at him in astonishment for the first few moments.  
Then a smile appeared on her tiny face.  
"_Sugoi_! You really are an angel, aren't you?" she spoke enthusiastically.

"I sure am," Gular responded. "Now, will you let me take a blood sample, so we can go?"

She shrugged, thought for a moment, then nodded. "What's your name?"

"_Watakushi wa_ Gular no Ryuujin, being of light. And you are Kaiyl, princess of the Saiyajin," Gular spoke with confidence.

The girl gasped in awe. "How did you know my name?" She looked at Gular, even more revered than before, yet there was still some form of suspicion in her dark eyes. And Gular wondered just what it was, why she simply did not trust him. She was only a little girl, she couldn't possibly tell right from wrong!

"Like I told you, I am an being of light, an angel."  
"Where did my mother go? Why hasn't she come back? Take me there?"

Gular was taken aback by the amount of questions the girl fired at him, and knew he wouldn't have much more time left.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The man sat up in his bed, frowning. He rubbed his small beard with his hand, then rubbed his face. He yawned. _Now what? _He thought.

He got up, sliding his feet into his slippers. He took the robe that hung by the closet, next to the immense bed. He was certain: he had heard voices across the room. This wasn't a dream! There was an intruder in the palace, he was sure of it.

He looked at the crown that rested onto the especially furnaced pedestal, and smirked. He wasn't the King for nothing! He would show these lowlife scumbags what he was made of.

He stretched, his tail unwrapping for the first time. The tall man cracked his knuckles, and wrapped his tail around his waist again.

Stepping out of the door, he looked to his right, then to his left, and decided to check up on his son first.

He smiled as he looked at the ornamented door. The painted Super Saiyajin reminded him of how magnificent they actually were. He himself was the descendant of the last Super Saiyajin to have ever roamed the universe. He, the King, was stronger than his father had been, and his son would be stronger than him. He rested his hand upon the door; his fingers sliding past the picture of such powerful Super Saiyajin, blowing up planet after planet. The power to destroy a universe: would his son ever find such power slumbering inside of him?

The king read the stories told in these ornaments, understanding it would be but a matter of time until he would find out. Would he still be around to witness the strength of his son, the Saiyajin no Ouji? Or would he, alike his father, die before he'd be able to?

King Vejiita had never achieved the legendary status of Super Saiyajin, and he knew it was beginning to sound like Super Saiyajin was just a myth. He knew this wasn't true, he saw it in the eyes of his son, whose power would surpass his one day.

The sound of a girl laughing caught his keen sense of hearing. He frowned. His daughter was awake again; he wondered when she ever slept for more than an hour straight.

He sighed, and decided to tuck her back in. She needed so much attention and worse, she needed so much love it made him sick to his stomach. Why was she so sensitive? Why didn't she take more after him, or after her brother? Why did she have to be the spitting image of his late wife?

He swallowed as he approached the door, looking at the ornaments that enriched the massive hallway. He halted in front of a tapestry, his eyes locking onto the images almost frantically, searchingly even.

What was this man looking for? Why did he worry so much?

Super Saiyajin, slaughtering dragons and other mythical creatures. What did this mean? He looked upon a small woman, his ancestor, he knew. She stood tall, despite her shortness, and had her hands raised up to the sky. Her hair golden, her body bulking with strength, why did this Super Saiyajin of olden times remind him so much of his daughter?

She was so different from him and his son that he couldn't even begin to fathom what drove her. All his daughter seemed to care for was to play, she was so gleeful and energetic that he couldn't handle her, and had no idea what to do about her. She didn't even seem Saiyajin. Her talk of angels and starshine made him want to hurt her.

She didn't emit much more energy than an average lowclass infant, a puny lowclass _baka_! Why had the Gods punished him by giving him a child so weak? But why, why in the name of the Gods, did his daughter remind him of the first Super Saiyajin?

He laughed. The thought alone was preposterous, so what if she looked a lot like the early Super Saiyajin, she was by far different in attitude. His son Vejiita, the Saiyajin no Ouji bore the right attitude and would undoubtedly become a Super Saiyajin one day, fulfilling the ancient prophecy at long last. And this was the exact reason he had not named his firstborn, his daughter, Vejiita. For only the heir to the throne, he or she who bore the power of eventually becoming a Super Saiyajin would be fit carrying such name.

He turned again, listening more closely. He was certain! His daughter was talking to someone! He knit his brow and marched further down the hall, straight to Kaiyl's bedroom. He halted right in front of the door, examining the padlock that had been forced open. He bared his teeth, and tried opening the door. As he proved unable to open the door regularly, he began knocking on the door aggressively.

"Kaiyl! You'd better be in there alone!"

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Gular's eyes flew in the direction of the massive door and he turned his head for a moment, his upper lip shaking nervously. There wasn't any time left!

Fretfully, the red-haired Chikurajin looked at the girl opposite him.

By the look in his eyes she knew Gular feared the Vejiita no Ou. She smiled. "That's my _otousan_," she said, "He gets angry a lot."

Just as the King attempted to open the door forcefully, Gular jumped up. He grabbed an oversized chair and blocked the doorknob by putting the chair underneath.

Hopefully, this action would buy him at least enough time to take the blood sample he needed. Debacle truth was he needed more than just time to take the blood sample as his orders also included taking the sample back to his homeworld. He knew he shouldn't be thinking of it right now but how could he ever escape?

He no longer cared what the child thought, whether she was afraid. She was only a child, therefore she couldn't do a thing to stop him, right?

Agitated, he grabbed her arm, and pressed the inside of her elbow, searching for a vein.

The upset, almost shocked look in her eyes didn't help Gular much, and for a moment he hesitated. The red haired man was shaken back to reality by the constant rumbling at the door. In a quick vigorous thrust, the needle protruded the child's pale skin. Why was she so pale anyway? All other Saiyajin Gular had seen had a tanned, bronzed skin. Didn't she ever go outside? He looked worriedly at the test-tube filling up with a dark shade of crimson blood. Suddenly, he was confronted with a force blowing him away, away from the girl, across the room. He was knocked back against the far wall and he gazed at the child confusedly.

Her face was taut with rage and bewilderment, and she looked upon him as if he were a bug needed to be crushed. Her tiny body shook, and energy seemed to flow from her crazily. She screamed, her cry a mixture of fear and fury.

Feverishly, he looked beside him, looking into the enraged face of a tall, raven-haired man.

Behind this man, lay the remnants of what used to be a door, a chair, and walls indicating a barrier between dormitory and hallway. In the distance, the tapestries blew, and Gular caught the image of a Saiyajin slaying a dragon in a flash. Then, his eyes rested upon the man in front of him, and slowly, the boy looked down onto the needle he was holding. There was no time to think things through, there was no time to attempt an explanation, there was no time for anything. The King had entered. And by the looks of it, Vejiita no Ou was not pleased, his still clenched fists pounded, blood rushing through his veins. Oh no, Vejiita no Ou was not pleased, at all.

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Author's Note: I like cliff-hangers.

Ah and if you ever wondered: ichichi means ow-ow-ow : )

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	12. Tale 9 New Frontier

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Nine ---New Frontier--- **  
Rating: T**

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The sudden compulsion overtook him. For a long time, Gular remained still and simply stared at the pompously infuriated figure beside him, waiting to see what this exasperated man would be up to.

King Vejiita stood, his face irate, stricken with surprise as well as pure venom. He pulled up his lip in distaste, and spoke. "Intruder, eh?" he sneered meticulously, "No matter… you die."

Scrambling to his feet, Gular sought desperately for a way out, looking upon Vejiita no Ou in slight trepidation, more so for the images all enrichments, tapestries and carvings throughout the palace displayed than anything else. "W-wait," he stammered, "I can explain."

"Spare me your futile elucidations," he said, deadpan. "Get up, and face your definite abolition with at least _some_ dignity." The King's black eyes nearly seemed to protrude through his skull, and young Gular felt how the horns curling up from under his hair began to itch. Slowly, he stood. "You're making a mistake, here." Gular swallowed, noticing the King wasn't the least interested. "I did not mean to harm her, all I wanted was…"

Vejiita no Ou raised his left arm, opening his hand-palm. From his hand, a small ball of light began to form, glowing almost similar to the smaller sun on Chikura-sei, and even though he tried his best not to show it, Gular was afraid.

Gular swallowed, and felt how his eyes reflected the light emitted by the sinister man in front of him. Undoubtedly, his eyes lit up with night vision, reflecting little light present.

At this very moment, the blast that had been forming inside of King Vejiita, waiting to be released as a concentrated attack, faded. Vejiita no Ou knit his brow, and frowned.

"Surlaiya?" the King mumbled, mostly to himself. "It cannot be… the Super Saiyajin wiped the lot of you out ages ago!"

Apprehensively, Gular looked about him, profiting of the King's sudden hesitance. For a moment he closed his eyes, realizing there was but one getaway: through the window in the far end of the room.

Kaiyl looked upon him in utter confusion, though didn't move from where she sat. In a haze of sheer despondency, Gular threw himself through the window with a daring plunge for safety.

Gular hadn't had a choice, and threw himself out of the stronghold, falling, ceaselessly falling as it appeared to him. He screamed, and spread his arms, hoping for any kind of absolution to come. He wanted nothing more than to seize falling, all he ever desired was to be uplifted.

The dragon resting inside of him remained still, and Gular urgently tried waking the monster inside of him up, fruitlessly as he soon discovered.

As the thorn bushes growing by the edge of the southern fortress wall came dangerously close, something inside of him changed forever.

He felt an abrupt weightlessness surmount him as if a burden had been taken from him. Liberated and fearless, he opened his eyes, finding himself aloft, soaring on the cold breeze that cooled off Vejiita-sei's night sky.

Gular hadn't awoken the dragon inside of him; Gular had awoken the gift of flight.

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Saiyajin were a breed of creatures storing a tremendous amount of energy within their lean –often even bulging bodies. These creatures had the ability of releasing such power by means of flight, in rare circumstances even transformation.

Transformations usually included the phenomenon known as Oozaru, the great ape monster that wallowed in death and destruction. Oozaru provided a Saiyajin with strength no less than ten times their original. Legend stated however that there was a means of transformation even greater than that of Oozaru. There was the transformation of Super Saiyajin. None living creature, at the best of Saiyajin knowledge at least, had ever seen such a creature and even though Saiyajin held such myths and legends of a grand history at dearest, some had begun doubting their accuracy.

There hadn't been a Super Saiyajin, or even any Saiyajin coming close to such power, in thousands of years. Some questioned whether there had actually ever been a Super Saiyajin to begin with.

One who never doubted about the Super Saiyajin's authenticity was King Vejiita. Vejiita no Ou was a strong believer that the prophecy which stated that the original Super Saiyajin, including the Densetsu no Super Saiyajin, or Legendary Super Saiyajin, would arise once more. And as far as Vejiita could estimate, the time of this prophecy coming true was but a matter of years, not eons or infinity as many had begun to think.

The Densetsu no Super Saiyajin and its followers would awaken, whether not today or tomorrow, Vejiita no Ou was certain it wouldn't take much more than one –perhaps two generations utmost to get there.

If there was such a thing as Surlaiya, the dragon shape-shifter, there most definitely had to be a Super Saiyajin waiting to be awoken from a long-lasting slumber, King Vejiita was undeniably convinced.

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Without even making sure his daughter was all right, King Vejiita rushed out of the child's dormitory, into the hallway.

"All troops on the alert!" he yelled, his voice bellowing with authority, "An intruder is trying to escape!"

Virtually, it took the soldiers but a few seconds to gather for an all-out assault onto Gular, and in flight he was soon chased by at least a dozen Saiyajin.

But there was something keeping these soldiers from attacking, something kept them at bay and not even Gular himself understood what it was. All he knew right now was that he needed to complete his mission, no matter what. As he stared into the rising sun indicating dawn was imminent, the fire that burned inside of him reflected in his eyes, lost in the light of early morn. The dragon inside of Gular had awoken, and in the midst of flight he had turned into the one creature Saiyajin had learnt to fear apart from the evil ruler Furiiza, the one they served above their own king. Gular had turned into the terrible dragon, Taihen no Ryuu.

Just this was the one thing that ensured Gular's escape, and Parz' demise. Gular was one of few Chikurajin having the ability to awaken a dormant dragon hidden within themselves, and it would be what saved him from the Saiyajin's wrath.

If there would be one thing Saiyajin had feared longer than they had ever feared the Changeling, or Furiiza himself, it would be Surlaiya, he who adapts to all. Surlaiya, the terrible dragon.

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Parz fought like a madman as soon as he'd been discovered. Unfortunately for him, it wouldn't be enough. Firing his stungun at will, gathering as much energy to summon an attack, and at some point even using his trusted dagger to keep the enemies at bay, Parz didn't have the strength or courage to fight off adversary upon adversary.

By the time his stungun ran out of power, he wielded the device forward, in hopes of taking out at least one of the Saiyajin assailing him without pity.

When he found nothing worth mentioning had happened his anger overtook him and he threw the belt with cylinders of tranquillising fluid he had left on him after it. In reaction with residual electricity produced by the failing stungun, the substance set fire, exploding anon.

Flame and high voltage outbursts erupted in a range greater than anyone could ever have expected. In shock, Saiyajin turned to see what was happening and threw their hands in front of their faces attempting to evade the blazing fire that was hurling itself forward like one massive ball of flames.

Fire spread like water, and the tortured screams filled the sky with blood-red that night. Burning bodies and severely burnt victims still twitching in anguish were sole margins that were left. No Saiyajin in the area, nor Parz himself, had survived the onslaught of the explosions.

Gular would soon discover none of those following him had continued their pursuit, whether because the explosion had taken them out, or they simply gave up out of indolence.

In hindsight of the exploding inferno was a small spacecraft of Chikurajin origin escaping the mayhem occurring on that planet.

For Gular hadn't had a choice in leaving Parz behind since the latter had been beyond salvation, and Gular had a greater cause to fulfil, no matter how nauxious the thought alone of leaving a fellow soldier –a friend behind.

Gular had never even dreamed of leaving anyone behind, nor had he ever thought he could have the vindictiveness to attain blood samples by means of deception and sham.

But what was he to do? He had promised his father to ensure Chikurajin's safety and legacy to be prolonged. What other options had he?

Manoeuvring through a force field of trapped meteors and other cosmic dust, young Gular left Vejiita-sei's dawning galaxy.

It did not take long before King Vejiita caught word of the grisly explosion that lay low half the city outskirts of Vejiita-sei's capital. On the other hand, the fire had apparently also taken the life of Surlaiya, as the king liked to call the horned creature.

Little did Vejiita no Ou realize this had not been Gular's corpse, as it had been Parz'. As far as the King had been concerned, he knew of only one Surlaiya trespassing and fooling the Royal Guard no less. To King Vejiita, this foolish creature had been disposed of. Those fallen by the explosions would simply be part of Vejiita-sei's glorious history of fighting enemy upon enemy. As for the Royal Guard, King Vejiita foolishly replaced the lot of them with people that had barely a reputation to rely on.

Little did anyone realize the dawn these Saiyajin were seeing now would be one of the last they were going to face; within less than four years, everything would be gone.

Such atrocity would be of no concern to Gular and he increased the space capsule's speed. Heading for his home world, the boy knew this might be the only way he could help his people. Naïve as he was, he had no idea how much his choices were going to affect everyone else, everywhere.

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Author's Note: I'm very much aware that this was a REALLY short episode. And there was no chibi Vejiita in it, either. : (

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	13. Tale 10 Betraying and Betrayals

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Ten ---Betraying and Betrayals--- **  
Rating: T**

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"What's the matter, Uyra-san?"

Uyra sat on the dense grass in front of her lifelong hideout, the tall rock formation that reached out behind her had begun to fill with growing bush and trees, overflowing with ripened seeds and pips, covering up any noticeable entrance to a possible hiding place.

The grass was still moist but she ignored the chilly sensation the minute dewdrops gave her bare legs and feet.

She sighed when finally a dim voice reached her brain causing her to switch her gaze from the distant horizon towards the girl standing by her side. As she noticed who it was she turned away her glance to lock her eyes onto the forests in the distance. She sighed a second time, resting her chin upon the palm of her hand, elbow held at a knee.

Just when the girl next to her thought she wasn't going to respond, Uyra opened her mouth and spoke.  
"I wasn't listening, Cyane. _Gomen nasai_."

She blinked away some tears, hoping Cyane wouldn't notice, or would otherwise blame the sun.

"If you talk about it you'll probably feel a whole lot better," Cyane attempted, not sure of how to respond to the girl who used to be of Royalty, and to Cyane still was. She really wanted to shake off the formality between the two of them but she saw no way.  
Uyra looked at the somewhat hesitant girl beside her, and decided to give her suggestion a try. Couldn't hurt, now could it? She bit her lower lip before she actually took the effort in explaining how she felt inside.

"It's Gular, my brother," she said, "I'm afraid he joined the Fighters and we had an argument about it. He doesn't want to talk to me anymore, and I really have no idea what to do about it. I feel like… What if I've lost him?"  
Cyane kneeled on one heel and put a hand on Uyra's shoulder, hoping the girl would accept the gesture of friendship.  
"Uyra, he's your brother; you couldn't have lost him. Even though he is an Ilrindûmé and his ideas might opposite yours, he still is your brother. Talk to him. I'm sure it'll be for the best. Lord Murass works in strange ways…"

Uyra smiled dimly. _She may be right_, she thought absentmindedly.  
"_Domo arigatou_, it did help."  
Then, she rose upon her feet and walked away from the cave. She walked past small foliage of bush and infantile trees, sound of a nearby river welcoming her. She sat in the shade of a tall Arlu-tree, its trunk indicating an age of several centuries, perhaps even millennia.  
Leaning her head against the enormous virtually ebon stem, she still hesitated about following Cyane's advice but tried to contact her brother eventually, the urge to talk to him greater than her fear of being rejected.

Folding her hands in her lap she concentrated, thinking of her brother, hoping the thought of him would be enough to be able to find his presence, to be able to talk to him once more.

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She could just about see him, his dark shape hidden in the shadows of devices and novelties she had never seen in her life. It had to be him, it couldn't possibly be anyone else.

_: Gular-kun, it's me, are you listening:_

Luckily, the girl needn't wait long for an answer, and in her mind she could see how the figure moved slightly, as if hearing her plea. She sighed, hoping she was right, hoping her brother was actually willing to listen.

_:.: I am...:.:_

_: I think we should forget about the fact you're a Fighter and I'm a Healer, you're my brother. :_

She wetted her lips nervously, unsure of how her brother would react. Such knowledge made her feel weary and feeble for she had felt what her brother felt, realized what her brother thought for as long as she could remember. Now, everything was different, things had changed and she didn't understand why.

_:.: I know… but I'm not sure if it's even possible. Overlord Darken wouldn't allow it, you see, he absolutely resents Healers. :.:_

She could feel the urge to argue with him, to tell him the Overlord was a malignant man, wanting nothing more than to use given fighting power by the hands of Gular for his own might only. Even though she wanted nothing more than to get her brother back right now, she was well aware the sole way to achieve it was to give in.

_:We'll work it out.: _She whispered in his mind, fighting her tears. _:I know we will. We just have to make sure we stay in contact, okay:_

_:.:Sure thing, Imouto-chan. I love you.:.:_

_:Uhn, me too. I'll talk to you later.:_

_:.:Naruhodo. __Ja matte.:.:_

_:Ja ne.:_

Uyra did feel better now she'd finally talked to her brother. But there was something bugging her concerning him. It felt like danger, but Uyra couldn't quite put her finger on it.

She was pretty certain however, that Overlord Darken had something to do with it.

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It was just a regular day at Capsule Corporation. The company itself was relatively young, and the immense building with laboratory and living area was as brand-new as the tiny baby the blonde woman sitting in the rocking chair by the porch was holding. The woman was a young mother but she held her child with practiced ease.

She smiled contently, and looked into the crystal blue eyes of her child. The baby stretched out her little hands and giggled with glee.

As a fold of the blanket in which the baby was kept fell off her head, blue green hair was revealed. The child's mother smiled an even broader smile as she let her fingers slide through the minute mane of aquamarine hair. "You know what, Bulma-chan?" she said to her infant, "You look just like your daddy, but you definitely have my eyes." She showed her teeth in a prideful grin. "Bluer than even the sky in the heat of summer."

The baby giggled again as her mother kept rocking her back and forth in the wooden chair. "You will only get the best, Bulma, only the best. You'll get the finest clothes in all the world, you'll get pre-eminence of schooling, and one day, when you're all grown up, you'll even marry a prince."

In the growing warmth of spring, the youthful woman held her baby close, and dreamed of years to come.

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The heavens were obscured by clouds indicating an imminent rain shower. Darken knew the space-shuttle he had sent to Vejiita-sei should come back any day now but the continuous covering of clouds buried his outlook upon Chikura-sei's skyline.

He concentrated, trying to keep his anger hidden. Gular had been gone longer than he would have estimated and he wondered what was keeping the boy. He couldn't have run out of gas as the capsule ran on energy drawn from natural sources. He either couldn't have crashed, for Parz, whom he had sent with him, was an excellent pilot.

Then why in the name of all things evil was Gular taking so long!

With a sudden breakthrough in the endless cover of billowing clouds, the space-pod made its way down to Chikura-sei's soil with a frightening speed.

Now, Darken was pleased as he was certain this was the very spacecraft he had assigned to Parz in taking Gular to Vejiita-sei.

Hovering only centimetres above ground, the saucer stopped suddenly, letting out a landing device on which the craft would find the much needed balance.

The Overlord rubbed his hands together and smirked.

"Yes, I wonder what you have brought with you, young prince," he said to himself.

The gushing of air around the space-shuttle rang in the man's ears, though he ignored the annoying sensation. He walked up closer, eagerly, not wanting to wait much longer for the greatly desired blood sample of the Saiyajin heir; of the much admired firstborn they called Vejiita.

It took quite a long while before any other sign of life was given off the space-shuttle, and the hood did not show any indication of anyone exiting to the point Darken began to wonder whether there actually was anyone aboard the ship.

He put a hand to his jaw, pondering on what he recalled of the Saiyajin royalty.

She was a woman, bearing a grace withstanding even the most elegant of female specimen. She was powerful altogether, and fearless at that, only complementing her intimidating exterior. She also bore a strategic knowledge matching that of any general of warfare.

But she held flaws as well. The Vejiita Darken had known was too proud for her own good, and that of others. Her pride transcended the borders of stubbornness, or even stupidity. And Darken could only assume it was because the first Saiyajin bearing the name of Vejiita, or proclaiming this name, had been a woman, a foolish woman but one bearing the strength of a Super Saiyajin as well.

Darken wondered how different present Vejiita would be, or prove to be eventually, through its offspring. After millennia of selective breeding the Saiyajin simply had to have improved, right? Evolution hardly jumped back, and leapt forward most of the time if not dormant. In any case, the Saiyajin simply had to be of use to Darken, as there was no other way, and no other possibility to attain what the Overlord wanted to attain: total domination.

With a gentle mocking, the access hood of the space-shuttle finally opened. Not giving the escalator a chance to unroll, Gular jumped down, onto the trusted homeland.

He wanted to smile as he was glad to be home but the grim settings in which he had left restrained him, keeping him from expressing his gratitude to have made it back safely.

He nodded at his leader, not wanting to salute him, feeling too engraved by the horrors he had witnessed only so recently.

"Did you bring it?"

Gular looked up to his leader, not sure of what he should say. He wondered why Darken did not question him regarding to the whereabouts of Parz, and to Gular it almost seemed as if the man in front of him did not care the least.

"Well," Darken barked with a sense of annoy in his voice, "Did you!"

The boy swallowed, nodding inattentively. "I did."

A staggering smile crept across Darken's face, and his eyes glistened with the giddiness of a schoolboy. Gular bit his lip, and swallowed again, trying to ignore his growing nervousness around this man. He opened his mouth, hesitating for a moment, as if he was at a loss for words. "Parz… h-he didn't make it back. The Saiyajin killed him." The remorse he felt inside only made it harder for him to look the Overlord in the eye but the latter wasn't even interested in what Gular had to say.

"Show it to me," the Overlord spoke, his words void of any emotion regarding Parz' demise.

Gular blinked. "Show what, sir?"

The man sneered with impatience as he replied. "The blood sample, what else you ignorant fool!"

Sweat was beginning to form on Gular's forehead, and he wondered why he was beginning to feel increasingly anxious in the Overlord's presence. He reached down one of his pockets, taking out a carefully concealed tube, filled with deep crimson Saiyajin blood.

"Aaaaah, yes…" The growing enthusiasm in Darken's voice continued stirring up the boy's unrest, and he wiped the sweat off his chin, trying to stay calm.

Darken still hadn't spoken a word of Parz' death and Gular could only presume it was because the Overlord simply did not wish to be confronted with casualties of his ever so dangerous missions.

As the man took the tube out of Gular's hands, he walked away without any interest for Gular, only mesmerizing on the possibilities this tiny tube of Saiyajin blood held.

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As night had for long fallen, Darken sat in the shadows of darkness, the barely visible moonlight reflected in his eyes.

The first final steps in his plan of dominating all within his imagination and beyond, in dominating the known world, had been taken. And it would be only a matter of time until all the compelling ingredients to Darken's malevolent plans would be spread out before him, falling together like pieces of an only too logical puzzle.

The Overlord had carefully examined all possible candidates to enforce the Chikura-jin breed, enabling him to ensure utter domination of the Outer World, and eventually overthrowing all good and sane the Inner World projected upon that outside world and employed to rule it.

Part of Darken's plans included acquiring as much foreign DNA samples as possible, of which Saiyajin was most precious to the Overlord, for various reasons.

As far as Darken was concerned, the Saiyajin were but a foolhardy species that by means of sheer coincidence had attained strength matching that of creatures such as Changeling and Chikuran of the Old Breed, of which the Eternal Dragons were ostensibly considered last in livelihood.

Darken had seriously overthought the possibilities of trying to obtain Changeling DNA as well but the risk was deemed too great at this point. The risk in being utterly wiped out by the Changeling was considerate as he had soon learned their leaders, Cold and Furiiza, had great interest in rare breeds, including the allegedly extinct Chikuran, the descendants of Dragons, the Surlaiya.

To Darken, Nameckuseijin and even Allurian DNA were still quite plausible to be obtained and regardless of possible risks he had sent several of his current best soldiers on missions to ensure multiple possibilities in Darken's wishes of creating the most powerful breed in existence.

Also, dangerous as the Changeling might be considered at this point, they had too many weaknesses to be of much interest to the Overlord anyway, as for long, most of them were even more foolish than the Saiyajin or even common weakling species.

One thing did worry the Overlord. Allegedly, the last living of the Great Kaioushin had sealed up the sphere of Buu, the one creature outside a Super Saiyajin, a Kaioushin and an Eternal Dragon bearing the power to destroy an entire galaxy with but the flick of a wrist.

And as far as he could predict, the Kaioushin had sealed up Buu's sphere in the depths of a place called Earth. Buu was said to be even more powerful than Super Saiyajin or Kaioushin, and as fascinating as it might sound, it was at least as startling.

Not even Furiiza bore such tremendous strength yet, and even though the creature Buu might prove to be even more powerful than the Perfect Warrior Darken wished to create, Darken knew absolute power alone would not be enough.

For long ago, he had already learnt Buu did not prove strong enough to kill all Kaioushin, as it had been intended to.

Majin Buu, as the creature was fully named, had never even had the possibility to attain its full potential. Obviously, it had not been given such opportunity and it proved too foolish to enforce one itself.

Buu hadn't even been that ridiculously powerful at the moment of its creation. The secret to its incredible supremacy was the fact it could regenerate itself, and more than just this; Majin Buu could absorb its adversaries, absorbing all their capabilities and aptitude.

Such feats made Buu the closest candidate in conquering the Outer World.

Oddly enough, it had been prophesised long ago that a mere Earthling, or Earth itself – said prophesy was rather vague and cryptic regarding this matter – would be the only one able to lay low the threat and even existence of Majin Buu.

Since long had Darken known Majin Buu would never live long enough to conquer the Outer, let alone the Inner World. But what was so special about Earth? Why had part of the Kyuusaisha been of Earth? Why was Buu's sphere sealed on Earth?

The Hakaisha, the Destroyer, would be the only one cunning and shrewd enough to outsmart the Kaioushin, and eventually be able to best even the Highest of All, the Highest Dragon Murass. But the Destroyer knew all too well that the host he resided in currently would not be able to last much longer, and time was beginning to run out. Darken, as he had chosen to name himself after the hostile take-over of this apt Chikuran's embodiment, was growing old and weary. The Destroyer realized creating a being more powerful than any Chikurajin had been for millennia, combined with the sheer force of a Saiyajin, the cleverness of a Nameckuseijin and an Allurian, might prove enough, and might buy him just the time he needed.

Darken wanted nothing more than to destroy the Real, and the Surreal. The Inner and Outer World would lay bleeding by his feet, and he would enjoy it.

Majin Buu and Furiiza all the same, were mere tools, and mere examples on what could go wrong. Proven in time, both would fail whereas the Hakaisha would prevail.

One thing even the Destroyer could not comprehend. How could it be that a mortal as mundane as an Earthling could stop Majin Buu in its onslaught onto the world? How could a being as weak as an Earthling live to develop such unaccounted strength?

He had never understood why Murass had assigned a Human being to be part of the Saviour to stop him. Why an Earthling? There simply had to be something special to them, something not as obvious and evident as one might think in the first place. And this was just the reason Darken had sent a small horde of Chikurajin Fighters to this tiny place called Earth. He had to know, he simply had to.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Captured in the grasp of dreams, Gular slept albeit restless.

He wasn't too sure, whether he was awake or asleep, and he frowned at the sensation that he could feel his heart beat maniacally, and had the feeling his hands were beginning to get sweaty.

Was this actually happening, was where he was now a reality or but an illusion?

He was caught up in a place best described as a void, a place of absolute nothingness. Nothing seemed graspable, and nothing was in fact real in the supreme sense of the word.

As far as Gular knew, or could at least presume, this had to be the Surreal, the Inner World in which the Dragons had once been spawned into existence.

But why was he here? Why now? Why did he dream of a place that exceeded all borders of what any mortal could ever even try to imagine, let alone fathom?

In the distance of the vast emptiness, Gular could make out a shape of some sort. The boy frowned, walking as if he were floating, and no matter how much he moved in the right direction, even when he started running, he simply could not get any closer to that distant shadowy entity. The shape appeared to be dragon-like, even if the boy wasn't sure which one. He had never seen Therin or Rhym outside the immense amount of carvings he could still remember from childhood. Besides, how could he be certain those carvings had been created from life?

Was this dragon-shaped creature one of the Eternal Dragons? And if so, which one?

Captured by the fascinating movements the distant creature made, Gular noticed the voices ringing in his head only after a short while.

He couldn't really determine what they were saying until he stopped running, and decided to remain still.

Danger, they spoke of danger, and no matter how Gular pleaded them to take the horrifying images they planted in his head, away, they did not.

Chikura-sei had not seen at least half its share of death and destruction, and no matter how Gular wished to shake off the images and pretend they did not exist, the view of utter devastation continued to plague him, printed into his soul, forever.

The Dragons had told him in person. Young Gular would fail because Darken would turn out to be much more than he could ever have imagined. He did not understand; was this their way of telling him he wasn't ready to defy Darken yet? Was this their way of telling him he'd never be ready?

With a shock, he sat up, suddenly wide awake. Had it just been a bad dream? Or was it a vision, warning him for events of the future? Why did the Dragons keep telling him he wasn't ready, why did they keep telling him of betrayals? What did they mean when speaking of betrayal? Who would betray whom? And moreover, why had they shown him images of the future, such images of absolute desolation and despair overcoming his homeworld, and an inconceivable amount of other worlds of the Real?

He swallowed, unable to find any sleep for the remainder of the early morning. Then, he put on his boots and decided to take a small walk around the campsite.

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Author's Note: Can the Hakaisha look into the future? Does Darken have any say in what the Hakaisha wants? Is Darken evil or is the Hakaisha even? And what does the dream mean? Bear with me for the next few chapters. I will shift from the current point of view to that of Vejiita and others as soon as I can. I need to explain Darken, the Hakaisha, Gular and Uyra first.

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	14. Tale 11 Reunion

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Eleven ---Reunion--- **  
Rating: T**

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In dawning retrospect of Chikurasei, Gular had a hard time shaking off the images that had haunted him only so recently.

There wasn't much activity at this moment of the day, before either of the suns had fully risen but to Gular, it was more activity than he would've thought. As he walked past several of the larger barracks situated in the area, most of the soldiers sitting in front of these temporary housings were busy with some of their morning rituals. Some hadn't even slept a bit last night, and were still busy gambling away the small amount of money they got from their leader occasionally. Others polished their swords, or shaved their beards near the tiny stream, behind the barracks. Some were busy talking, making nasty remarks about women or their conquests over them. Few had breakfast, or practiced some martial skills.

None of it all seemed very vital to Gular right now, for all the boy wanted was to feel more at ease. He did not care that other soldiers thought highly of him, because he had made it back safely from a place called Vejiita-sei, nor did he care much for the salutes he got, and invitations to join them.

Why would he want to oppose Darken? And why wouldn't he be ready to do so, even if he'd want to?

He still looked around, even if it were only absentmindedly. He did notice some soldiers sitting at a cut tree trunk, gambling and drinking Arlu-beer while cheering aloud at the ones they thought should win but he did not really care. It was way too early to be bothered by such a thing. Oddly enough, none of the soldiers seemed plagued by the fact it was so early in the morning.

How could he ever shake off those images? He growled, closing his eyes. If only it'd be for but an hour, he'd give anything to forget.

He stopped suddenly, listening to the energetic thrusts and punches one of the soldiers in the vicinity were making.

Opening his eyes, he noticed a vertically challenged, or so to speak, soldier. The short legged Fighter was practicing some kata, away from any other soldier.

What interested Gular was the man's fighting style. It reminded him a lot of the training sessions he had had with old Burresba, when he had been only a child.

How could a soldier such as that man know moves that could be traced all the way back to the Chikurajin of the Old Breed? Could he have had a tutor such as Burresba had been? And if so, who could ever have been his tutor? Everybody knew there was only a handful of Chikurajin who could've remembered this ancient fighting style for none had ever bothered recording it. And each and everyone of those handful Chikurajin that had been of extremely old age even long before Gular had been born, had been in service of the Royal Family.

What could this mean?

Why were all these confusing things happening around him?

For the very reason of seeing so many similarities in style, this ebon haired Fighter reminded him a tremendous deal of himself.

He then decided to walk over to the man, and try to find out where he had picked up these ancient fighting techniques.

"You're really good at those high jumps and kicks," Gular commented.

As soon as the short-legged Ilrindûmé landed, he turned towards the red haired boy.

The raven haired man narrowed his eyes, and seemed to be suppressing a smirk. "How would you know?" he said matter-of-factly, "You ain't seen nothing yet."

Gular smiled. There was something different about this soldier. "Mind showing me a move or two?" he said. Finding out who taught him could wait, right now, Gular wanted to find out _what_ this man could do first.

The Fighter returned an at least as excited smile, even though it resembled more of a smirk.

"By all means," the man replied, "definitely."

Not giving Gular any chance to prepare, the dark haired man shot forward with a speed that neared ludicrousness. Pulling one arm beside his face, the other by his waist, he dashed forward, past Gular, intending to punch him at the small of his back.

Gular however, turned, and instinctively jumped backwards, to avoid the series of blows his opponent had begun firing.

Then, as soon as the opportunity arose, Gular countered an attack of his own. To his surprise though, each and every blow he dealt was simply blocked or turned away.

Even as he had come to the point of sending punches and kicks at a speed that neared the point an ordinary being could no longer follow every movement, left and right kicks subsequent to one another at a dazzling pace, the mysterious black haired man blocked or changed direction of them all.

Gular's expression gave away a slight sense of exhilaration as well as frustration that there was actually someone who might be able to match his strength.

When both warriors reached the point that none could attain the upper hand, Gular decided he wanted to change his luck by means of sheer personal enforcement.

He grinned, as he spoke to his opponent. "You're good, I must give you that. Your master taught you well. But you're not nearly as good as I am."

At that, Gular beckoned upon the reservoirs of strength he still had inside of him, without summoning the sleeping dragon within, without forcing himself to transform.

The tremendous amount of energy that originated from the pit of his stomach shot down through his arms and legs, manifesting itself in more powerful blows.

It seemed, as if his body had begun glowing like a sun at the momentum of dusk or dawn, or the moon at midnight.

He balled both hands into fists and wielded them forward, one at a time.

The raven haired Chikurajin stood opposite him, unmoving until the very moment one of Gular's fists neared the man's jaw. Then, coming as sudden as a thunderstorm at broad daylight without a single cloud marring the infinite perfection of the azure skies, energy erupted from his very self, almost as if he exploded with strength, and he moved aside without much effort, avoiding all attempts of direct hits that Gular shot at him non-stop.

Surprised by the man's sudden outbreak of energy, Gular hesitated, giving his opponent the one opening he had been waiting for from the beginning.

The Chikurajin threw his fist back, whilst pushing it forward he moved enough air to let Gular's hair fly up, and as the man's fist connected with the boy's cheek, the latter fell back by means of the force resulting from the blow the other man had dealt.

As soon as the impact had been registered in the raven haired man's brain, he turned, to give his left foot just the summoned strength it would need to kick Gular in his back.

The moment the man's foot would connect with Gular's back, still falling, the boy stretched his arms out to back-flip away from a possible impact.

As Gular landed, and looked in the face of his opponent, both could not suppress a smile much longer.

"Not nearly as good?" the man said, laughing, "My name's Trax." He stretched out his hand to meet with Gular's. As soon as the boy accepted the gesture, Trax pulled him up.

"Who taught you to fight like that?" Gular asked, seriously wondering how a simple third-class soldier could have picked up on techniques like that without having become an officer.

Trax shrugged in response, throwing his dark mane of hair back, showing his black eyes. "Does it matter if I tell you I don't want to talk about it?"

Gular sighed. "Fair enough. Though I'd really like to know."

The man beside him snickered, then sat down, gesturing Gular to do the same.

"There aren't that many Fighters or Chikurajin in general that enjoy talking about themselves, or to speak of a time before the Black Death. Everything was so different back then, before Fighters and Healers split roads, I mean."

"You may be right," Gular commented. "Why won't you spar with any of the other soldiers?"

Trax rubbed his eyebrow, trying not to smile. "Because I'd most likely beat them to a pulp, that's why…"

Gulkar laughed. "True."

"Besides," the man continued, "I don't like their attitudes."

His eyes fixated on the ground near his feet. A small snail-like creature made its way through the thick grass, trying to avoid the Chikura-jin's feet. Trax smirked, then landed one of his strap-in boots on the unfortunate mollusc.

Gular looked at the sky and spoke, almost to himself. "Can imagine; they're rough customers. Even if you can kick their asses, they enjoy taking you out from behind, when you aren't paying attention..."

"What do you mean by that?"  
For some reason Gular thought Trax sounded offended. He fixed his gaze on him and responded, "Nothing in particular. I just have the feeling I can't trust each and everyone of them, that's all."

"Welcome to the real world, kid. I mean, I ain't no Healer, I am a Fighter, that much is for sure. But sometimes I just don't agree with what most of them and especially the Overlord stand for." He furrowed his brow and watched Gular questioningly. "Don't you agree that collecting alien DNA and even let females from another species foster the children sounds a bit over the edge? Or are you one of those following the Overlord wherever he goes, even if you're gagged and blindfolded?"

Gular still looked at Trax and nodded, understanding.  
"I know what you mean. My sister has always been the calm and rational one and I have always wanted to swing into action. Though I have to admit some of Darken's methods are a bit radical. But what else can we do? My sister…"

Trax looked Gular in the eyes with an peculiar twinkling in his eyes, causing Gular to stop in the middle of a sentence. "Nevermind," he concluded eventually.

Trax still gazed at him, and not knowing how to react, Gular turned away.

He rose upon his feet and walked away from the camp, headed towards the woodlands, leaving the valley behind.

"Gular! _Chotto yo_!"

Gular pivoted, waiting for Trax to catch up, only to tell him straight in the face where he was going he was expected unaccompanied.

He wasn't sure what to say, let alone do to ensure Trax wouldn't come after him. Then, he heaved a gentle sigh, and bit his lip, contemplating. "Trax, could you do me a favour?"  
Gular turned away once again, looking at one of the moons that was still visible in the early morning skyline.

"Sure, what can I do for you?"

"Can you tell Darken I have to settle something and tell him I'll be back tomorrow morning. Just tell the Overlord I sent you."

"No problem," the black haired soldier said.

Gular didn't care to look at the short-legged man, and not wasting any more time he dashed into the vast forest that reached all the way and probably beyond the distant horizon.  
Smirking evilly, the other Chikura-jin twitched his feet, turned, and marched straight towards Darken's tent.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

A tall tree cast a dark shadow, hiding the figure standing underneath, draped in shrouds of late afternoon. He looked at a teenage girl; her long hair as pale as snowflakes, reaching down to her buttocks. She was busy polishing her sword with an Arlu-woven cloth. As the figure stepped out of the shadows he decided to greet her, not wanting to go away without talking to the girl. He elevated slightly, not wanting to use his feet as they were sore from hiking through the mountains all day.

"Uyra-chan! It's me, I'm back!"

The teenage girl looked in the direction of where the cry came from, almost instantly noticing her brother. As her mind overcame the initial surprise, words welled up and a smile appeared on her face, her entire mien radiating from ear to ear. She dropped her sword and ran over to embrace her sibling.  
"Gular!" she cried, "Y-you..." She fell silent, gaping at her brother who stood somewhat elevated. "...are floating..." The cloth she had still been holding, tightly trapped into a strong fist, fell to the ground landing in the soft grass.

A gentle breeze carried off Uyra's voice, full of surprise and glee, as well as angst. What had happened to her brother?

Dyla, Cyane and Fringe came out of the cave, curious and worried to know what was going on. The threesome stared at the stranger, presuming him being Gular. Who else could be the reason of Uyra's sudden enthusiasm?

Young Fringe hid behind his grandmother's leg, somewhat taken aback by the tall warrior.

Gular broke the hug he and his sister shared and narrowed his eyes in suspect. "Wait a sec," he said, his voice a low octave, "who are they?" The red haired man looked at the three pale haired Chikura wearing their white gowns, looking suspiciously much like Healers.

"They are my friends," his sister explained, and, reading his thoughts she acknowledged his initial notion, "They're Healers, you're right about that much. This is Cyane, her brother Fringe and their grandmother Dyla."

Gular stared at the three silhouettes standing near the cave and introduced himself, knowing it was the right thing to do since his sister considered them her friends. Friends of her sister were his friends, it would always be that way, no matter what.  
Uyra wanted to know the whole story; of how Gular got involved with the Fighters, and why he hadn't returned the day he had left to investigate about that small group of Ilrindûmé.

After having gestured Gular to take a seat, since the boy seemed more nervous than he had ever been around his sister, probably more due to the threesome of strangers, she made him a cup of tea and asked him what had happened.

Albeit the story gave her the impression of an unlikely ghost story, she realized though her brother might be naïve; he would never deliberately lie to her.

Afterwards, Uyra told him _her _story and so did the three Healers, at least to the point of what seemed important enough to be told.  
Gular was confused, and no one, not even the Healers, condemned him for it.  
Did the Sanûmé tell him the truth and if so, had Darken lied to him?

Was this the very thing the Dragons appearing in his dream had warned him about? Was Darken actually the bad guy, instead of the Healers?

How could he have ever been so stupid!

He knew his sister had the ability of sensing evil and good in people, but he _knew_ the Healers betrayed their own race by not taking action; he didn't understand. Had he been mistaken? He had to be!

Uyra could never be the one manipulating him as she was his own blood! She was by far too pure to ever be tempted in even thinking about crossing him… so what else could be going on than the Overlord not being as sincere as he claimed he was?

Frustrated and discouraged, Gular walked away from the cave's entrance without saying a word and walked towards the stream nearby. He sat down on the riverbank, watching as the water that had cut its way through the landscape even ages before he was born rippled by peacefully, and he contemplated the whole situation once again.

One question kept ploughing through his head, knocking everything upside down. Had everything he had grown to believe in been a lie?

Uyra realized her brother needed some time. The boy had changed a lot over the past months, and regardless of what he'd decide, she knew he'd make the right choice.

She settled on leaving him by himself for a couple of hours as more than but a few hours of time he wouldn't have. Darken would find out he was gone soon enough. Trying not to give it much more thought, she helped Dyla and Cyane prepare a decent meal.

In the meantime, Fringe was also walking away from the hideout, towards the stream. He sat down, a few feet away from Gular, and watched him. The young boy had never seen a warrior up close and wondered why this one was so much friendlier than other Ilrindûmé. What could be the difference between this Fighter and the others?

Gular knit his brow, not wanting to acknowledge the boy's presence at first, wishing he'd just go away moments later. "What do _you _want?" he growled, finally breaking the silence and drowning out the rippling water of the nearby river.

The child seemed puzzled, and chewed on his lower lip nervously. He looked behind him, not sure of what he should do. Should he do the polite thing and answer the question? Or should he be smart for a change and run away? Fringe didn't like running away all the time, he didn't like to be a coward for as far as he knew running away was cowardice behaviour. "You are a Fighter," he began hesitantly, "Yet you haven't killed us. What's that all about?"

Gular suppressed a smirk; the little boy was cleverer than he would have thought. And even though he usually appreciated such quality, this time he simply wanted to be left alone. He didn't lose focus on the water in front of him as he answered, trying hard not to sound as irritated as he actually was.  
"I am Uyra's brother and I don't harm you because of her. Besides, I'm not the bloodthirsty type of guy," Gular replied coldly. He sighed, pausing for a second. Then, he turned one eye in Fringe's direction. "But I assure you, brat… if you won't get lost _right_ now, I might plead blood-thirst after all. _Ima zakenayo_! Get lost!"

Fringe didn't leave; he just stared at the young, fallen prince. Was he really Uyra's brother? Then why did they differ so much? Why was he so angry, why did he start yelling all of the sudden? What was it that bothered this man so much?

Gular was growing impatient and suddenly turned, facing the boy. He stood tall, slowly folding his arms over one another.  
"_Never _let an Ilrindûmé warrior repeat himself, do I make myself clear!" he snarled.

Fringe nodded frightfully, and swiftly pivoted, running back to the cave as fast as he could. He tripped and fell but swiftly recovered, running even faster than before. If only Gular could've seen the boy's fear stricken face would he have felt sorry for the boy, or would he simply have laughed? Could Gular really have changed _that _much?

Fringe kept running, all the way back to the hide-out. There, the young boy almost bumped into Cyane. The girl put her hands to his shoulders, suddenly overtaken by concern, for Fringe was crying.

"What's wrong?"

From Fringe's side came no response. He just shook his head and kept it at that.

"Fringe, what's the matter?" Cyane attempted, more firmly now.  
But the boy turned away and just mumbled something, wiping his sleeve across his face, wanting to cover up the fact he'd been crying.  
Uyra approached the two, alarmed by Cyane's tone of voice.

She kneeled and put her hands on Fringe's upper arms, shushing him. "What's wrong, Fringe?" she took over, he voice soothing and calm.  
"You know you can tell me anything, now come on and spit it out."  
Uyra looked him in the eyes and she saw he was frightened, realizing something had startled the boy to the point it had made him cry.  
"What are you afraid of?"

Finally, Fringe attempted to speak albeit sobbing. "I went to the stream… and the Fighter was there too and he was mean to me. I asked him a question and he just yelled at me, for no reason." The obvious resentment in the boy's words angered Uyra and she stood without saying a word, marching over to the stream at a speed and with a force that bosomed admiration in Cyane as the latter took over comforting the boy.

Uyra was rather determined even though she was upset all the same. Without a doubt she'd demand an explanation from her brother.

"Gular," she snapped, "what were you thinking! Fringe is only curious and no matter what he said, you have absolutely no right of behaving like you did!"  
Gular didn't respond to Uyra and after a short pause he just snorted at the words Uyra had spoken. To emphasize his disinterest, he took a small pebble and threw it in the river and he looked at the water as if it was more interesting than the girl standing beside him, hands akimbo.  
"You have changed," Uyra finally said, "you are no longer the Gular I grew up with. What in Therin's name happened? Did the Fighters do this to you?"

The sudden softness in her voice angered Gular to the point he looked up and gave her a foul glare.  
"How dare you say such a thing! You're the one who has changed, from a respected warrior to a low life weak Sanûmé." He spoke the name as if it was tainted with dirt and insignificance. "When I think of what you could have become… I spit at the thought you've turned into a pathetic healing _bitch!_ _Abazureon'na_!"

Staring at him, dumbfounded and utterly ashamed she called him her brother, she stood there, not knowing what to say or do. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. This couldn't be Gular, her beloved brother: in front of her sat an Ilrindûmé, without any sense of honour in him, except a need to destroy. Gular had become a merciless warrior, and to Uyra it seemed he had shrugged off everything they had learned over the years.

"What happened to you?" she whispered in disbelief, "Are you still Gular Ryuujin? Prince of the Chikurajin… and my brother? How… how could you?"

Gular closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at his sister, whom had nothing left to say; she only stared at him blankly, unshed tears in her eyes.

"Maybe, just maybe… I no longer am your brother. At least not the one you wish to remember. What you stand for is feeble and meaningless. It will bring down our people…" He halted, as if he tried to figure out what he was getting at in the first place. "Father wanted us to build up this planet after that horrific disease, but all you do is pray, make contact with the dead and heal! There is nothing left to heal!" He stood, waving about his arms to make himself clear, only to calm down again moments later. "The only thing there can be done is to pick up the pieces and move on! Look forward to the future of this world, not to the past, to how lovely the planet once was. What's the point in looking back except trying to learn from our mistakes? The future of the Chikurajin is in our hands, Uyra. Do you even realize that! If we won't stand up now no one will and all will be lost. As far as I'm concerned, I'm willing to fight for it, no matter the cost. Even if it'll mean us parting…"  
He held his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed, then his eyes widened again and a sense of remorse crept over the young warrior and he approached his sister.  
"_Sumimasen_," he whispered, "It's just... I get so mad when I see what's left of our beautiful planet that I feel obliged to do something, anything, about it." He stared at his sister, who was still fighting not to cry, and hugged her.  
"I love you, sis. Nobody and nothing will part us. We're family and always will be. I'm sorry I said all those nasty things… I…" He sighed, glad his sister returned the embrace, whispering some hardly identifiable words in his ear.

"Thank you, Gular."

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Author's Note: What's with Trax and his evil smirk? Why is he siding with Darken? What is Darken planning? Also find out a bit about Bulma's parents!

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	15. Tale 12 Freedom of Choice

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Twelve ---Freedom of Choice--- **  
Rating: T**

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The pale haired man made some notes, as if calculating his next step, elaborating his strategy. His dark eyes slid across the sheets of paper spread out in front of him, scattered across the desk. His entire mien radiated with frustration, as if he had made a mistake and as he looked up, his eyes exuded of rage.

When the temporarily accustomed door opened, his anger faded and he looked at the man entering.

"Score a success?" the Overlord asked, unsmiling.

"Of course. He left, I recon he went to his sister." The dark haired soldier replied, not even saluting his superior.

"Did you discuss the matters I ordered?"

The man smiled, pleased to be able to give all the correct answers. He nodded. "Definitely."

Darken smirked in response, for the first time since Gular had brought him the blood sample of Vejiita. "Splendid. Follow him around for a while; pretend you are his friend and try to find out more."

"Yes, my Lord."

Then, the dark haired man turned to leave.

"Oh and Trax," Darken suddenly continued, "Never reveal too much…"

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What should've been a regular day at Capsule Corporation turned out to be quite different, in fact, it was a day of worry.

The research department of Capsule Corporation consisted of two small laboratories and one larger lab. Due to all sorts of machinery and her husband's moods Mrs. Briefs usually avoided the west wing of the firm. Her duty mostly consisted of taking care of their baby girl and scheduling the appointments with other businesses. Capsule Corp. was still rather small compared to other companies but was definitely on the rise.

Mrs. Briefs had received a very disturbing phone call from one of the office's secretaries.

Her name was Spring Secchukawaa. She was the eldest of four children, who had been orphans since the horrible car-accident that had killed both parents fourteen years ago. Mrs. Briefs had known Spring's father years before he had died, as he and her husband had been close friends till the former's death. Mrs. Briefs had even met her current husband through Spring's father. She and Spring had been friends since high school, and they had developed a strong bond ever since the accident as both had lost their parents at a young age. Even though Mrs. Briefs had been a lot younger at the time of her father's death, her mother had died only recently back then, giving her a powerful connection as to relate to Spring and her siblings. The moment their parents had died, Mr. and Mrs. Briefs had offered all help they could possibly offer the children that were left behind and two months later, Spring, her brother Fall, and her sister Winter had been offered a job at a new company called Capsule Corporation. Capsule Corporation, or CC Facilities as the office department was labelled, was Dr. Briefs' research and development business that was now growing rapidly, into one of the biggest companies in the neighbourhood.

Fall was too busy trying to get his high school diploma, and attaining a college degree after that, so as soon as the opportunity arose, Winter and Spring checked in to work for their new boss and Fall continued studying.

At first, Winter had been too young to work full days at the company and she only helped filing paperwork in the morning, or handing Mr. Briefs the tools he requested for a few hours of each day. As she got older, the girl proved to be blessed with an inquisitive mind and high intelligence, giving her the opportunity to become Dr. Briefs' apprentice.

Winter and her brother Fall started up a company of their own soon after, still working closely together with the newly established Capsule Corporation Research Facilities.

Winter specialized in cell structures and medical biology, whilst Fall focused mainly on chemical provisos of neurobiology and cerebral activity in any given situation on children, adults, even animals.

Dr. Briefs had been highly impressed with some of the research outcome of the two and encouraged their ventures in starting their own company, hoping it would turn out for the better.

Unfortunately, the governments prohibited experimenting with humans and live human tissue on a larger scale and banned human cloning –even on medical grounds- not soon after, which was one of Winter's main pursues.

The Season Examination Company, SEC, was shut down and the only contact Dr. Briefs had with Winter as well as Fall was through his wife's friendship with Spring, their elder sister.

Today however, would not be a day of pleasing Dr. Briefs, or giving him any hopes towards Winter and Fall's lives or scientific practice in any given way.

Spring had just told Mrs. Briefs what had happened, and in but a flash of a moment, the young mother at Capsule Corporation had ordered her friend to come over and explain.

Mrs. Briefs felt bad for not being able to go down there herself and asking her already upset friend to hop in a car and come over but she had no one to trust the care of her baby with, except of course Spring, who was no where near an option right now as she was subject of commotion in the first place.

Three days ago, Fall and Winter had vanished in the midst of daylight. And as far as Mrs. Briefs had understood properly, they had been abducted by aliens?

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It was time for Gular to head back to where the army of Ilrindûmé was stationed and say his goodbyes to Uyra.

He had a hard time not giving in to Uyra's tears and cry along with her. Her tears almost made him feel guilty, made him think she knew he was going to die soon, something that was only obvious to him after having seen those dreadful images of the future a couple of days ago. Even though he wanted nothing more than to tell himself those images were false and the vision he had been pulled into had been nothing more than a dream, he knew he was kidding himself. Gular had given up his freedom, and his life, to an illusion he had believed in. But there was one thing Darken could not take away from him, and that was his freedom of choice. He could end it. He could end it at every given occasion he proclaimed himself. He could end it then and there but he wasn't ready yet, he had to arrange a thing or two first. He had to ensure his sister would live on, he had to ensure Darken would never get what he had always wanted, for which he had used Gular in the first place.

But just to make sure the dragons speaking to him in that vision were not mistaken, or a figment of his overactive mind, he'd consult Darken into giving the Sanûmé enemy a second chance. Healers and Fighters had worked together in harmony for so long, so why wouldn't it be possible to restore this lifelong bond?

But how could he ever convince Darken of the same?

Contemplating on the many possibilities spinning through his head, Gular hadn't even noted much of his way back to the base.

He held his solid stride, even though it meant he had to alter his path a lot if only to prevent bumping in to some of the gathered soldiers marching and training in the late evening light.

As soon as Darken's quarters came in sight, the urge to rush in began boiling at the back of Gular's conscience, and he had to hold back his enthusiasm if simply not to make a fool of himself.

Oddly enough, just as Gular intended to enter, the Overlord came rushing out himself, walking passed him though not without talking to the boy, gesturing him to follow.

"Gular," he said, his voice revealing a concealed glimpse of excitement, "I have something to show you. And frankly…" He paused for a moment, glancing at Gular to catch the boy's reaction, with a smirk he turned away again. "I think it will interest you."

The red haired youth pushed his lips together, frowning slightly. "With all due respect, sir… Can't it wait? I actually wanted to discuss a rather urgent matter. I really…"

The flesh around Darken's nose wrinkled in distaste for Gular's nerve in trying to tell someone as grand as the Overlord what to do. He sighed inwardly, holding on to his cool. "No! It cannot. Honestly Gular, haven't you learned anything in the past weeks? Wait for your turn in the correct chronological leadership order. To put it even simpler: I stand above you, so you shall do as I say, understood? Now, come along."

Actually baffled by the Overlord's sudden outburst, Gular decided to let the matter rest for now. He surely didn't want to get in trouble over this, and he wouldn't want to risk his sister's safety over this. The subject of Healers should have to be postponed given the situation. Silently, he followed Darken to the immense plain that served as landing platform behind the camp.

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Mrs. Briefs truly had no idea how to handle her friend's statement. Spring's obvious sincerity only made matters more complex. Could there actually be a possibility two of the woman's younger siblings had been abducted by beings from another planet?

She really wanted to believe her, and despite the fact Summer shared her elder sister's testimony, the child could have easily also agreed with her sister if she had told her a frog actually could turn into a prince once kissed.

Regardless of how the two had vanished, Mrs. Briefs offered as much help as she could. The police department refused to take much action, even though the two children had been missing for nearly a week and a half by now. The police had simply told them off, because Fall and Winter had been on secret locations doing research on several occasions, without inquiring their worried family about it. They presumed this time would be no different.

With help of her husband and some close friends at the government, a professional search party was established, not only to try and find the children but also to find out what had actually happened in the early morning, eleven days ago.

So far however, none of the hired detectives could even find but one measly clue as to what had happened. There were no traces, no leads, and no witnesses. It almost seemed as if Winter and Fall had simply vanished off the face of the Earth.

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He followed Darken's sudden stare, aimed at the sky. And only now, did Gular fear his presumptions would be true. As a spaceship at least twice the size that Gular's had been, landed in front of them, said feared truth came frighteningly near.

"Watch closely, young Gular," Darken said, his eyes still focused onto the spacecraft in front of him. "Watch, and learn."

As the main hood opened, to reveal a massive opening from which some sort of escalator erupted, a tall, dark haired man stepped out onto the sand covered soil of Chikurasei, a man who soon enough proved to be Ambroze, given the volume of his voice.

"Reporting back from duty, sir!" he yelled, rather blatantly.

Darken approached coolly, his entire stature revealing nothing but utter calm. He smirked, waiting patiently, enjoying the fact Ambroze still stood unmoving, in a saluting pose. By the time the soldier was undoubtedly beginning to think he was being made a fool, the Overlord finally nodded at him, returning a salute.

"Very well," Darken began, "We shall discuss the research outcome later on, show me the live specimen first…"

_Live specimen?_ Gular thought, not sure he wanted to know what Darken had meant.

He fumbled around with the belt carrying his sword, trying not to look too nervous.

"Yes Sir!" he heard Amrboze say, before the latter yelled at the men back in the spaceship, giving them the very order Darken had given him. What happened next printed itself onto Gular's retinas unwillingly. For a moment, all he could do was stare, as little over a dozen young women of alien origin were driven out of the spacecraft, shackled, forced up like cattle. Some were half naked, others wore dirty, torn clothes of fabric and colours Gular had never seen in his life. Most of the women had a pale, almost pink looking skin, coming across for Gular as rather odd, for the boy was only used to the extremely pale skin of her sister's, and her new Sanûmé friends, or the deep olive skin-tone the Ilrindûmé concubines and wives just outside the camp had.

Some of the women had a deeper shade as well, two or three had an olive skin, and one of the girls had a skin that could only be described as really, really dark.

Why, in the name of the Great Gods, had Darken ordered for innocent women to be taken from their home planet, as Gular suggested by the looks and build of them that despite their expressive differences in exterior they seemed to be born out of the same origin, to the same Mother Goddess?

Lining them up in one single row, forcing them to stand next to each other, putting pressure on the shackles bounding their wrists and ankles, the soldiers that had assisted Ambroze on this mission, stood slightly away from them, not wanting to displease their Overlord by coming too close to these frightened creatures.

Not much of what Darken was saying actually made sense to Gular, as most was technical babble and talking of a species they called 'Chikyuujin,' which apparently was the name for these alien women. Their faces were oval shaped, some a bit rounder or square shaped than others. Their ears were round and small, they had sphere shaped eyes next to each other, much like a lot of the more intelligent species in the universe. Alike the Saiyajin, Thrakan and Chikurajin species, they wore five fingers on each hand, though on Chikurajin the number of fingers often differed, depending upon their original subspecies, whether descended from Therin or Rhym, who, despite being related, were of a different variety within the Chikurajin breed, giving them either four or five fingers.

Most were rather petite, a lot smaller than the average Chikurajin. Gular wasn't really in the position to compare them to any other species as he hadn't really been confronted with any alien females yet.

What were Darken's plans with these women? What did he need them for?

As if reading Gular's thoughts, Darken addressed the women, speaking to them in a tone of voice that could only be depicted as sadistic.

"You young ladies are very fortunate," he said, "Very fortunate indeed." He began walking back and forth, inspecting each and every girl lined up, looking upon them as if he were an aristocrat looking for the best slaves, and a good deal.

"You have been found prominent of your kind. Therefore, you have been selected to participate in an elite breeding program…"

Crouching forward with an impressive agility, into a rather offensive stance, the darkest of the women spit Darken in the face, her expressive face pure of hate, her hands pulled into powerful, claw shaped fists. "Never!" she shouted, her native tongue sounding deep and primitive. "We will never obey to your sadistic ways!"

Unruffled, Darken let his fingers slide across his brow, swiping off the spit without much ado. He grumbled, and a snicker escaped his lips. "Very well…" he said, his dark eyes glowing dangerously, "Never, you say? Are you sure this is what you choose? I cannot convince you to chip in?" His words were flooded with cynicism, regardless as to how serious he actually was.

Gular stared at Darken, and he could feel how the tiny hairs in the back of his neck began to rise. The sinister calm in Darken's voice foreboded something perilous, something deadly even though Gular could never have predicted what would happen next as it was simply too shocking for the boy to understand properly.

The dark skinned woman narrowed her eyes, challenging the Overlord seemingly fearless though Gular could sense how scared she really was. "Over my dead body you will," she sneered, slowly turning a cheek to Darken as to show him how much she was challenging him in the first place.

"Good," Darken spoke, grinning, "I was hoping for a volunteer to set the proper example."

What did he mean? Was he actually implying…? No!

The Overlord folded his arms, no longer saying a word, not making any sound, simply observing the woman's reaction as she threw herself to the ground.

Squirming, she grabbed her head, pushing as hard as she could, pulling on her hair, tearing out bush after bush. Her face showed she was screaming, but no sound came. All she did was produce a writhed murmur, only emphasizing the excruciating pains she was being tortured with. Her feet kicked, throwing up sand, sending a blur of dust at the other women's shackled legs.

The other women moved uncomfortably, holding back squeals and screams, too frightened to be next victim.

She kept her eyes closed, and tried to cover her face. Bending her spine suddenly, she opened her eyes in a flash, revealing bloodshed retinals that saw a world bleeding to death.

Gular closed his eyes, turning away. Just then did Darken move. He put his hand to Gular's chin, forcing him to see.

The poor woman crawled forward, pulling herself with the last amount of strength she could muster; she put out an arm, begging the Overlord to stop without being able to say. Shaking, she attempted to grab Darken's leg, wanting nothing more than to stop this insufferable torment.

When the girl was ready to give up her struggle, she laid her head to rest, her breathing reduced to a few inconclusive rasps. Abruptly, it stopped for the Overlord had had enough, considered her value to the project he had decided to let her live.

"Take them away," he ordered, "Let them freshen themselves up, clothe them, feed them."

Without giving the females any more attention, he turned and walked away, leaving Gular to stare ahead of him thoughtlessly as the boy was too shocked to do much of anything right now.

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The thought had been stuck in his head for a few days now. What if Darken refused to listen? Would it matter much? Would it change his own views?

The Darken he was being confronted with lately was a different man from whom he had met that cursed day, so many months ago.

Had his sister actually been right all those times she had told him what a malignant ill willing man the Overlord was?

The past night the heavens above had wept, and cast down a shower of rain. The grass plain had turned from a solid valley into a muddy pool in which tents of barracks were centred. Gular ignored the cold moist soil, mud reaching up to his calves. He walked about aimlessly, never even noticing the man he bumped into, knocking the soldier over from behind.

Gular stared, though wasn't able to focus for a minute, to see whom or what he had floored.

"Watch it, you moron!" the fallen soldier hollered, "Didn't your mother ever teach you to watch where you're going?" Covered in mud, the Ilrindûmé growled at the result of his fall. Rubbing his head he got up and recognized the Chikura-jin that had knocked him over. "Oh," he muttered, "Hi Gular..."

Though his thoughts were still somewhat wandering off with him, Gular did recognize the soldier, and nodded at him. "Trax."

"Say kid, what's wrong with you? I don't mind that much you knocking me over. I'll just have my uniform cleaned by one of the concubines."

Gular shrugged, not really listening to what his friend was saying. He rubbed the side of his temples, fighting an imminent headache.

He could see how Trax was still moving his lips, probably talking about martial techniques or whatever, Gular didn't care.

He sighed, desperately wanting to let go of his rampant feelings.

Looking at Trax, he decided to tell him to go away. Not because he didn't like him but because he simply wanted to be left alone. Left alone with his feelings, the images haunting his thoughts, making him suffer.

"Just leave me alone, Trax," he said, scoffing, "I'm not in the mood for anything right now. There's just too much going on in my life."

Trax nodded, as if understanding. "You wanna talk about it?" he asked, following the red haired Chikurajin as the latter walked away.

"No," Gular replied quickly, "Thanks anyway." He walked away, hardly giving Trax a chance to respond.

"Sure, later dude."

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Stomping up and down the palace hall, young Vejiita drove the servants and lackeys to the brink of a mental breakdown.  
Letting his destructive fingers slide along the marbled halls, letting the immense tapestries dance on the wind conjured up by his endless dashing back and forth, the prince almost seemed content.

Almost, for today wouldn't be a day of bliss or happiness; today was the day Vejiita no Ouji, would be placed under the wing of Furiiza, the tyrant suppressing the Saiyajin from ultimate glory.

It wasn't really a matter of choice, as the boy's father had soon discovered.

Lord Furiiza, as the tyrant preferred to be called, wasn't a man of his word. With all honour the Saiyajin had always held in highest regard, Furiiza found absolutely no difficulty in altering the Saiyajin reputation of fierce warriors into merciless killing machines, and planetary estate retailers. Eventually, the Saiyajin were beginning to live up to their new nicknames, as if never having known any different.

It was nearly as if their initial nature had been reborn. From then and forever more, the Saiyajin would be known as the universe's planetary estate brokers.

All trading was first and foremost arranged and dealt with by the Saiyajin, under the direct leadership of their King, Vejiita no Ou.

Earlier on however, their King had closed a rather dubious deal with Furiiza. Realizing he wasn't strong enough to oppose Furiiza, King Vejiita had proposed an alliance. Thinking it was a good deal, the King willingly signed the contract Lord Furiiza presented him with, not knowing the immediate consequences they'd confer.

Saiyajin had never been decent diplomats or attorneys of International Law. Saiyajin were warriors, they lived by the laws given to warriors; survival of the fittest and so forth.

Unfortunately, Furiiza knew of such weaknesses and greedily exploited them.

The spiteful Changeling wanted to take the Saiyajin Crown Prince, Vejiita no Ouji, with him to prepare the boy for a future in warfare and planetary trade under his leadership. The King however derisively refused, over and over. Lord Furiiza on the other hand was not the kind of man to be told what to do, not by King Vejiita, or even by the former's own father, King Cold.

Regardless of Vejiita no Ou's wishes, what Furiiza wanted, Furiiza got.

And thus, Furiiza ordered for young Vejiita to be taken off planet.

King Vejiita, although knowing his place was under Furiiza, was a strong willed man. He convinced Furiiza of the necessity for the Crown Prince to be kept planet or even homebound until at least his teenage years, until he'd be strong enough to kill an adult second class Saiyajin warrior without much effort. Until that time, taking Vejiita no Ouji off planet would bring too much risk ever to be bestowed upon a Saiyajin Crown Prince.

Even to his own surprise, Furiiza conceded to the King's request, on carefully given terms. Furiiza knew Prince Vejiita would be able to kill even a first class Saiyajin warrior without much effort before remotely hitting puberty.

For Vejiita no Ouji would be put under the direct guidance of Zarbon, one of Furiiza's henchmen, the moment he would reach the delicate age of four Saiyajin years: no exceptions, no Royal Immunity.

Luckily, King Vejiita could arrange, on behest of keeping the boy in touch with Saiyajin tradition, for Nappa, one of his younger warriors in the Royal Guard, to keep an eye on the boy outside –as Furiiza liked to call it– playtime.

Young Vejiita was not pleased. He had been put under a very strict house arrest, and he did not like it. House arrest was something for weak-hearted incompetent rulers not worthy of their position, house arrest was a penalty fit for women, fit for his inept sister.

Bah! Prince Vejiita was in fact livid!

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Leaning his hand against a deciduous tree at the far end of base camp, Gular sighed with frustration. He had had another dream, even though he had pushed away the thoughts, not willing to think of it, trying to forget it had ever happened.

Again, the dragons had appeared to him, this time being more specific. Chikurasei was on a crossroads. Chikurasei was betrayed by something –the Dragons had unambiguously spoken of 'something' rather than someone– they should never have trusted in the first place. This time, the Dragons had vaguely presented him with a name, even though Gular did not understand what it meant. All the dragons had spoken of was Destroyer, Evil of All Evil… what could they have spoken of?

From a distance, Gular caught three low octaves of voices, three men whispering. He shrugged off his thoughts for a moment to concentrate on what the men were talking about. He wasn't the kind of guy to snoop around eagerly or to spy on fellow soldiers but there was something about the conversation that gave him no other option.

Suddenly realizing why, Gular had a hard time withstanding his need to go over and punch the living shit out of them. They were talking about him! Frankly, what they said explained more to Gular than he could ever have imagined.

The laughing, their penetrating laughter cut through Gular's soul in means he would never have held possible. His friends, or at least the fellow soldiers he held closer than any of the other soldiers could ever be to him, were backstabbing traitors.  
He narrowed his eyes and brushed a strand of flame-red hair out of his face.

Resting his back against the tree, he closed his eyes, focusing on the voices, trying to figure out what exactly they were saying. Soon after, the words became clearer to him, ringing in his head, staying there forever.

"Gular is truly blind. He didn't even notice I followed him around. Not even when he contacted his sister, the fool." Trax grinned, his dark cheeks radiating from side to side. Why that double-crossing no good son of a bitch!  
The red haired Chikura-jin prince widened his eyes, frowning moments later. Reflexively his lips parted, and slowly, rage began to boil. As his knees dropped to the cold muddy soil, he balled his hands into fists and sat on his heels.

"Yeah, he actually thinks we are his pals, his fellow soldiers," Ambroze chuckled, "Ha, I laugh at that!"  
"Couldn't agree more, Ambroze," Ouram, one of the other soldiers Gular had met the first day he had ever seen Darken, eventually added, snickering poisonously.

Gular couldn't believe it. His fury rose and rose as the three, so called friends, went on for a while bringing everything back to their leader Darken as main culprit, or genius as they themselves called that malignant Overlord. He had to do everything possible to control his rage, but when they started insulting his family, he had heard enough.

This was outrageous! How could he never have noticed? How could he have ever gone along with their evil schemes whilst they had been deceiving him all this time?

His rage had reached the point of outburst. He was so deeply filled with anger he could barely control himself.

The images the Dragons had shown him during the visions they had offered him, combined with the upsetting feeling of betrayal, were too much for Gular to push away anymore. Thus, he decided to take action.

And he knew exactly how and where he could hit Darken hardest. He would take away the very thing the Overlord had wanted more than anything else.

After all, Gular had made a choice. He had decided there was truly one thing Darken could not control nor take away. Darken could never take Gular's freedom of choice.

No matter what would happen Gular knew he would always have a choice.

And by exploiting his own choices, he knew he would hit the Overlord harder than any physical punch or kick ever could.

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Author's Note: I hope this chapter wasn't too long. I hope it didn't confuse you too much, either.

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	16. Tale 13 Conflict

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Thirteen ---Conflict---**  
Rating: T**

_Yet somehow knowing  
__This path is right  
__When there isn't a person within my sight  
__And even when my fears start growing  
__I keep on walking with all my might  
__Unsure if it'll ever be alright  
__Never knowing whether I'll die alone  
__And crumble to dust or turn to stone_

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He clenched one hand into a fist, slamming it in the other before sending it forward against the tree trunk, punching out a good portion of wood. Gular didn't care. Normally he would never have vented his anger against an innocent organism, such as this unfortunate tree, but now things were different.

Trudging away from the base camp he walked around, to head back to where the research amenities were located. Snooping around carefully, he soon discovered where Darken kept the blood samples, including the one Gular had so vigilantly obtained for the Overlord. Without giving it any more thought he took the sample he recognized as Kaiyl's, the Saiyajin Royalty's firstborn.

The laboratories were guarded by at least a dozen soldiers at each corner. All soldiers had been given strict orders, to let nobody pass unless it was the Overlord himself having given explicit permission. Unfortunately, and more or less fortunately for Gular himself, the boy was more powerful than Darken would have anticipated. Before any of the soldiers could much think of sounding the alarm, Gular had killed them all. He did not care the soldiers themselves were relatively innocent, for the young Chikurajin was blinded by hatred and fervour to his Royal Family.

Bursting out of the research facility quarters, explosions followed him, as Gular had decided to destroy all other gathered samples, of which some might still be of use to the Overlord.

Gular didn't care this action would draw out all other soldiers residing in the area, nor did Gular care much that Overlord Darken would come for him soon enough.

First, Gular needed to arrange some other things. He focused, charging himself up, elevating. He rushed forward, as if running through air, and he halted in the vicinity of the Human Prisoner Camp, where the alien women were kept under close guarding.

Night had fallen, and Gular scanned the amount of thrill seeking Fighter Chikurajin dashing towards the area where once were the laboratories, from behind bushes abundant of thick, thorny leaves.

The ablaze surroundings reflected in Gular's moonlit eyes and he smirked, knowing this would leave him with only a handful of soldiers to deal with at the Prisoner's Camp.

The two soldiers guarding the outside of the hostage compounds had left, wanting to be caught in action, wanting to be heroes in Darken's eyes upon clearing research material away from the still violently raging fire.

Gular could still hear them squabble in the distance about who should stay to guard the outside of the Prisoner Camp but the red haired Chikura Prince knew they wouldn't be coming back anytime soon. Gular did feel somewhat sorry for them as they would be put to death undoubtedly for leaving their post but this wasn't of Gular's concern right now; he had bigger fish to fry.

He stood in front of the penitentiary's entrance, not sure what he was waiting for. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes for an instant.

Then, without further hesitation, he ripped open the door, and six pairs of surprised sentinel eyes gauged at him. Two of the, oddly enough all black-haired, guards walked up to Gular, swords in readiness.

"You know no one's allowed in here," one of them said to him, dangerously, "Not even you, Prince Gular."

Gular smirked, rubbing his left hand with his thumb. "I'm not asking for your permission, Zaeten," he said, calling the soldier by his given name. Apparently, Gular knew the man.

"Well I'm not giving it to you anyway," the soldier replied. Gular suppressed the urge to laugh at the soldiers. The boy was well aware he was by far more powerful than any of them, all of them together most likely. He looked the soldier in the eye, who hadn't finished speaking yet, Gular soon found out.

"Now get out before I have to resort to more drastic measures!" Zaeten concluded, aiming the tip of his sword at Gular's throat.

Gular lifted his chin. "Do elaborate, soldier." Fearlessly, Gular challenged the soldiers, even though he was being out numbered in quantity. It didn't matter, for quality counts, doesn't it?

"Don't make us use this, Gular!" the other soldier warned, obviously more afraid he'd be forced to attack than anything else.

Gular sneered. He most definitely didn't want to kill them; they deserved better than that. He was actually faced up with an impasse as he knew they would never let him pass. He, as well as the soldiers knew that treason or desertion was castigated by means of a solid death penalty, no exceptions. If the soldiers let Gular pass they would have fallen short of their orders and meet a certain death under Darken's decree, if they wouldn't let Gular do whatever it was he had come for, they'd risk being killed by the young Prince. Obviously, risking death sounded less deterring than a certain demise.

But how was Gular going to knock them out long enough, and efficiently enough without killing them or letting one of them escape?

The very second his thoughts drifted in that direction did Gular realize what he had just done. The laboratory! Gular had committed murder; Gular had killed each and every scientist or sentry at the research lab. This was terrible! Never would the boy have thought he'd be able to kill his own kind and just now was he confronted with that very deed he resented Darken for.

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Standing in the open, barren field, he glared at the tall man standing over him, who looked down to him as if he were but a rodent. Young Vejiita however, remained ostensibly unbiased by the man's impertinent glare.

Vejiita didn't like waiting for the man to speak to him and had been quite insulted when that emerald skinned man refused to reply. Openly challenging the man opposite, Vejiita turned and walked away.

"I don't recall giving you permission to leave, young prince," the emerald skinned man said in an annoyingly calm way. His long braid danced on the wind and he smirked with iniquity.

Vejiita halted, and pulled up his lip in a desperate attempt of holding on to his cool; even as a four year old, the Saiyajin Prince resembled his father tremendously upon glaring like that. But on the inside, Vejiita no Ouji was a lot like his mother; stern, short-tempered and proud. He did not like being bullied around like that. First, he had had to wait for two hours to be finally allowed out of his room, of course after having nearly trashed the place to tiny fragments but that wasn't the point. Now, he was being forced to just stand here, waiting for this mere henchman of Furiiza, whom was said to be named Zarbon, to start training the boy.

Evidently, Vejiita no Ouji knew he was a strong fighter, and he'd actually never openly admit it but whatever this pretty boy Zarbon was, he was a more proficient fighter than he, Prince of Saiyajin, was. But this was now, and one day things would be the other way around. One day he would be Super Saiyajin and they would all bow down to him, no, they would grovel through dust and dirt for him.

Unfortunately such daydreams wouldn't help him now for right now he had to do all Zarbon told him to, no matter how disrespectful he tried to be, Zarbon always knew a way to blackmail him out of it.

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Disgusted by his own actions Gular couldn't bring himself to kill any of the soldiers anymore. No matter how hard they tried to stop him, no matter how often they came back for the assault, Gular put them off and forced them to back down each time.

By the time he stood near the cage in which the women were held, the poor soldiers handed him the key to the lock almost voluntarily. Gular was powerful, he knew this himself, but now the soldiers were aware of the same. Gular might even prove powerful enough to oppose Darken. Darken no longer led his soldiers through honour and respect but was increasingly forced to resort to campaign of intimidation.

Darken had been tremendously popular during the first few years of his reign. He had fought alongside his soldiers, ahead of the lines even. In the beginning, when Overlord Darken had still been but a talented army commander, he had earned trust and respect by having the audacity, the courage, to oppose the King.

Vaerr no Ou, king at the time, had been an ignorant, inapt leader. Darken however had been born to lead, it was in his blood, pushing through his veins always. And he had been a powerful, convincing leader. He had led his people through famine and even through a demanding civil war.

Two years ago however, things changed. Nobody knew what happened to him but Darken changed. He had always had an odd resentment towards the minority of Healer Chikurajin but something forced him to what he was more and more becoming. What pushed him over the edge to extremity and terrorism will probably remain a mystery forever; Darken himself might not even understand. However, now that Darken was slowly revealing his true self to Gular, it became clearer that someone had to stop him. It was actually rather obvious _that_ someone would be Gular, Prince of the Chikurajin; prince of all Chikurajin.

It wasn't too difficult for Gular to liberate the women. It was much harder to control them. Outraged, frightened and virtually on a stampede, the aliens had at the same time nowhere and everywhere to go. Even to Gular's surprise, two of the remaining soldiers stood up to aid Gular in his attempt at calming the women down and guiding them away from the Prisoner Camp, far away from Darken and his malevolent experiments.

He didn't have much choice other than to just trust the soldiers and take their word for it when they told him they knew of a way to let the women escape safely.

When they showed him the spacecraft in which the women had been brought to this planet in the first place Gular was at first disappointed. He didn't know how to fly a machine like that! But then, perhaps one of these soldiers could, and was willing to do so. Gular knew how much these soldiers wanted to go home. Darken would never let them, and he was certain this assured the fact Gular could more or less trust these Chikurajin.

"Zaeten," he said, "Can you fly this thing?" He gestured to the massive spacecraft looming behind him as they approached silently. Zaeten shook his head. "The Overlord taught only a handful of soldiers deliberately," he replied gruffly, "Besides, even if I could, I'm not planning on risking my ass any more right now. I've got a wife and two boys to take care of, you know."

"I see." Gular bit his lip, contemplating. "Do you know anyone who is able and possibly willing to fly it?" Zaeten, as well as the other two soldiers shook their heads. None of them had the least clue which soldier that had been sent on an off-planet mission had actually flown the damned crafts in the first place. They couldn't help him, even if they wanted to.

"What's the problem?" one of the women suddenly asked. Gular frowned, and turned towards the woman whose ash-blonde hair was tousled and dirty. Still, she looked less shaken than any of the other women. "You do understand what I'm saying, do you?" she wondered aloud, "Those other soldiers sure understood us even though they never listened or complied to anything…"

"Yes," Gular answered hastily, "I do understand your language…" He didn't seem willing to explain to the woman how he could understand a language, any language spoken in a world he had never even been but the woman was sure if they'd meet again she'd certainly ask. "The problem is that we, _I_ planned on getting you out of here with the spaceship in which you came but no one seems able to take it to the air, let alone fly the damned thing. So now we'll need to find another solution…"

"I could try," the woman replied, her blue-grey eyes glistening with confidence.

Gular knit his brow in confusion. "Try what?"

"To navigate that spaceship, of course," she said matter-of-factly.

"You mean, you could?" Gular stared at the woman, wondering how in the world she could fly an alien craft. There didn't seem to be anything special about her. She just looked like any of the other aliens, just a plain specimen of her breed.

"Yep." She walked passed Gular, walking to the closed entrance of the ship. She opened a small cap, revealing a number of designated and assorted buttons and smaller keys. "Let's see if I remember this correctly," she murmured. After having pressed a series of keys the entrance hood opened without protest.

As if each of the other humans understood what this meant, they walked up the lath leading to the entrance, and inside of the spaceship.

Gular followed the women without thinking, blindly assuming the soldiers he was leaving behind were trustworthy enough to be turning his back to like this. With a violent, unexpected bang the hood of the ship closed, trapping everyone inside like sardines in a can. They had been betrayed, and there wasn't a doubt in both Gular's as well as at least two third of the women's minds enemy soldiers would come soon enough.

"Damn it!" Gular cried, "Damn those soldiers! Don't they see there's no point in this!"

Gular stomped around the ship, even trashing some of the fixed furniture with which the spaceship was fitted, stirring up the already frightened women, driving them to one of the ship's corners unknowingly.

The ash-blonde woman sat in front of the control panel, calmly examining all switches and devices. Although the ship didn't look much different from the proto-types she had seen at Capsule Corporation, back in Chikyuu, she didn't understand the signs imprinted on some of the buttons. She turned to look at Gular, who was still raging like an idiot. "Hey you!" she called to him, "Calm down for a minute, will you? I need some information."

Confused, Gular stared at the strong willed woman, suddenly feeling rather foolish for loosing his composure so openly. Mutely, he walked up to her, looking at her questioningly.

"This," she said, pointing out one of the buttons, "I believe this may be the launch button. The machine itself already seems to have been balanced, since I remember when the soldiers took off the first time they had the levers below switched in this particular order. But if you can tell me what that sign on the button means I'd be a great help. Especially…" She paused in the midst of a sentence, looking at some sort of screen. "Especially now that those soldiers…" She gestured at the screen, pointing out at least three dozen of organized Ilrindûmé heading their way. "…are definitely not coming over for a tea party."

Gular stared for a minute, as if diffidently glued to the spot, forgetting how to speak. "Launch," Gular blubbered, "Launch!"

Hesitantly, the woman held her hand over the button, not really convinced of what Gular meant. Then, the boy slammed his hand over hers and pressed the button, igniting three of the engines the ship was implemented with. Taking the steering wheel in her hands, the woman manoeuvred the spaceship out of enemy lines without too much difficulty and remained impartial to Gular's nerve-racking expression.

After having just left sight of the camp, the woman looked up to Gular a second time, noticing how distressed the boy was. She didn't care. Although she was thankful he had set them free, strict actions needed to be taken this very minute. Since he wasn't responding she turned away, and pressed some of the buttons, looking for programmed coordinates, possibly those belonging to her home world, Chikyuu.

"Kuso!" she yelled, more at the machine than herself. "Those empty-headed asses!"

As if suddenly awakened by the woman's outburst, Gular stared at her. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" she bellowed, "What's wrong! Those bastards deleted the pre-installed coordinates to my home planet. That's what's wrong." She exhaled loudly and rubbed her head, noticing a headache was boiling up at the back of her mind. "Now where are we gonna go?"

Gular blinked, thinking hard. "North," he said.

The woman looked up to him. "Just north? How will that help us?"

"Just wait," he responded, "Look for a mountain range. One of them has an old but really big tree hanging over a cavern. That's where you need to go. My sister will be waiting for you there. Once you're there you need to wait till I return before taking any action, understand?"

She nodded, knowing she wouldn't have much of a choice but to trust this stranger who had helped them escape that horrible prison in the first place, which at least made it possible to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Well now," he concluded, "Do you know how I can get off this ship?"

Confused, the ash-blonde glanced at Gular before looking ahead of her again, minding the number of trees showing up below and beside the ship. "I can't land right here," she protested, "You'll have to wait."

Gular folded his arms. "It can't wait," he spoke, "Just drop me off mid-air."

She stared at him dumbfounded, glaring at him all of the sudden. "Are you crazy! You'll get killed if you get off in flight!"

"Just trust me," Gular replied tranquilly, "Can you drop me off?"

She nodded unwillingly. "Stand on the small round plateau in the centre." She gestured behind her with one arm, not really looking what she was waving at. The moment Gular stood on the plateau, the ash-blonde pilot pressed a red button and the ground from under Gular's feet vanished. "Have a safe landing!" she yelled at him before she was out of his hearing range. She laughed nervously, though didn't really find the situation that humorous. This Chikurajin seemed a little too crazy to her. Just as she held that very thought at the back of her mind, pushing away the need for her to laugh, a reddish figure popped up in the corner of her eye.

She nearly jumped, and gave a cry. Staring utterly flabbergasted at that crazy Chikurajin she had just dropped in midair, floating beside her as if it were an everyday occurrence. He pointed out a mountain range in the distance, and then looked at her waiting for her to nod.

Then, he smiled and saluted before taking off, disappearing in the direction from which the spaceship had come.

"That was certainly weird…" the woman mumbled. For the first time she could smile. For the first time she had high hopes for the future, hopes she hadn't even thought realistic back on Chikyuu.

To Gular there weren't many hopes left. He was realistic, more realistic than he had ever been. He would go back. He would go back and confront Darken with all misfortune he had brought upon the world. It wouldn't be easy for he knew the Overlord would be more than furious with him for taking away the things he seemed to hold so close. But Gular didn't care. If it would cost him his life, so be it. He wasn't afraid of conflict anymore.

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span style'font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Verdana' !if !supportEmptyParas Before the base camp came in sight, Gular contacted Uyra, explaining in her mind what had happened and what the coming of an Ilrindûmé spaceship meant. Uyra hadn't taken it lightly when Gular had told her he was going to fight Darken but she wasn't given another option than to just accept it.

The secluded plateau, where the base camp had been set up for four years now, lay in the midst of a protective riverbank and woodland, concealing them from enemy sight.

It seemed not all soldiers had been alarmed yet or simply had been called off duty. Gular didn't really understand but as he noticed Darken, sitting in front of his tent, unmoving, Gular knew he had something to do with it.

The moment he landed in front of the Overlord, the pair of soldiers standing guard by their leader's side moved into offensive position. Darken however gestured them to seize their effort in protecting him, indicating he need not be protected.

"Never thought you'd actually be a traitor, Gular," the Overlord said, a distressing glare fixated on the young prince. He didn't smirk, unlike always, indicating Darken was genuinely insulted, beyond miffed even.  
Gular narrowed his eyes, tightening his fists to the point his knuckles reflected white. He wasn't going to let Darken get away with all that he had done, and all he had been reluctant to do. It was about time someone stood up to him, even if it meant he would be the one standing in the line of fire.  
"Never thought you'd actually lie to me. Your goals are evil and selfish, Darken." His words brought forth more determination than Darken would have thought the boy capable of. Even the way he had uttered the Overlord's name reflected how unwavering he actually was. Gular took his sword, aiming the tip at Darken's throat.

The two soldiers who had backed down a bit once Darken had told them to rushed forwards, unsheathing their weapons in a matter of seconds. "Hold it," Darken commanded them, "Go back to where the other soldiers are, in the eastern line of camp. I don't need you here."

Gular could see their hesitation; these two were part of the core group of Darken's following. Though hesitant, they did not defy their leader and did what he had told them to. Once the soldiers had left, the pale haired man, who still was having Gular's sword at his gullet, showed a dim smile and replied calmly, taking his sword from the sheet on his hip and throwing it away.

"You're well aware something as pointless as a blade will not impair me the least. Let's get down to business and fight in the fashion of our ancestors." He stood, knowing Gular would not use his sword against the man he had admired until recently.

The boy sighed. "You're right," he said, "Let's not waste any more time. Though I must assure you that you've met your match in the likes of me."

"Don't be so sure, prince."

As if pulled away by an unseen force, Gular was thrown backwards, landing on the mud covered soil. Rain was imminent in the air, as clouds began to gather and wind caught up. Darken threw back his head, his mane of pale hair dancing on the upcoming storm. He closed his eyes and laughed a sinister laughter, enjoying Gular's radiating disbelief tremendously.

The clouds that had been gathering all this time swirled and moved agitatedly, twisting and turning about the Overlord as if drawn to him as the man's pale eyes began glowing forebodingly.

During a sudden moment of perplexity, Gular couldn't move and simply stared at what was developing in front of him, only metres away.

"_Taihen no Ryuu_, the way of the Eternal Dragon shall befall on you, young prince. There's no way out now!" Darken screamed suddenly, his eyes flashing and turning into a shade of pure red, its light illuminating the sky, reflecting onto Gular's shocked face.

There was a fury in the man's scream Gular had never felt in anyone, anywhere before. And something told the boy he was about to witness something he would never have expected.

Still, the red, maniacal glare, originated from the Overlord reflected onto Gular's cheeks, the pearls of sweat on his brow resembling drops of blood as if they truly were such.

"What's going on!" the Chikura prince cried as more black clouds gathered over both his and Darken's head, spreading a dangerous carpet that turned day into murk night. Gular actually needn't to ask that question as he knew the answer already. It wasn't possible! But the signs were definitely there. There was a chance Gular was mistaken but the signs were too clear. I mean, how could he be mistaken? He had been there himself, his sister had been there, and his mother had told him the stories, she had told him of the birth of a dragon so he knew, Gular knew Darken was turning into a genuine dragon, Taihen no Ryuu, as they were called.

Darken merely laughed, utterly consumed by the changes he was going through.

He bent over, feeling how his muscles were tensing to the point he couldn't do anything else but scream out in anguish. His heart pounded, and he was very much aware of the blood gushing through his veins, curdling and turning to poison. From his shoulders erupted a set of curved bones that grew flesh as if touched by some kind of magic. Wings. Overlord Darken was growing wings! His scream turned back to laughter when his skin started to turn scaly and his overall size began to more than triple. It seemed as if his spine was thrown out at the lower of his back, lengthening and lashing back and forth, growing a thick, scaled skin, covered with horns and spikes all about. At the highlight of his transformation, Darken nearly became unrecognisable when his skin turned a deep shade of black and his face became the skull of an all devouring dragon.

Gular couldn't believe it! He stared, unable to move, unable to form the words he wanted to say. He gasped, dropping the sword he had been holding onto just barely.  
"There's no way! _Masaka_!" he screamed in terror. Gular knew Darken outclassed him in strength and he knew he outclassed him more than once.

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Washing off the blood and dirt by the extremity of a small river, the Saiyajin no Ouji wondered why Zarbon was more powerful than he was. Was it because Zarbon was older and therefore more battle-experienced? Or was it because he, Prince Vejiita, simply hadn't gone all out on him?

No. He had given all he had. And yet this tiny voice at the back of his skull told him to try harder, to give it all. Had he or hadn't he given all? He thought he knew the answer. Now, he wasn't so sure anymore. He had heard rumours that he, Saiyajin no Ouji, was more powerful than his father already at birth. How much of it was true, he didn't know. His father was a strong man with high standards. Also, he kept his power quiet; he didn't brag about it, he didn't show off at dinner parties. All the King ever spoke of was that his son, Vejiita no Ouji, would be a Super Saiyajin.

Then what was taking him so damned long? Why hadn't he reached Super Saiyajin yet? How many weeks, months, years maybe, was it going to take?

Even at this fragile young age, Vejiita didn't like his pride to be tested like this. He didn't like being beaten either, in fact, he wasn't used to being beaten…

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"Enjoying the view?" Darken's voice had become a deep whisper, intimidating and unfathomable. The intensity of the laughter that followed the Overlord's words shook Gular's core, filling the boy up with more astonishment than fear.

Looking beside him, the sword his father had given him long ago still lay next to him and he saw how the dragon reflected in the shining blade of the one weapon he was able to control.  
He knew it was now or never and swiftly, as fast as he possibly could, he lunged forward and pierced his sword deeply into the dragon's flesh, turning the blade around twice, to increase the inflicted damage.

The world trembled when that black dragon let out an an incredible, breathtaking howl, a sound that was blown across the land and moved all within its range with trepidation and violent destruction. And at that very moment, rain began to fall and the heavens wept like never before.

Spreading his colossal wings, Ryuu Darken sent droplets of rain fly at Gular like tiny missiles and the boy was forced to cover his face as Darken pulled himself up to the sky.

Roaring maniacally, the beast closed its teeth around the handle of the sword and drew it out without effort, tossing it aside, to have it sink in the ground like a landmark, far below.

"There is no need for you to live, Gular. As I already have what I wanted from you. I already got what I had to have."

Gular still hadn't recovered from the initial surprise when the Overlord had turned into a dragon but the thought that this dragon had ratio, and more ratio than Gular had learned to attain from the time he had been confronted with the dormant dragon inside of him for the first time, years ago. Knowing this, it was made clear to Gular that Darken had been a dragon much longer than he could even begin to imagine.

And what did that mean? Did this actually mean there was a connection between this Darken and the Darken from myth and legend? The one who had betrayed his own people?

Suddenly realizing what Darken had just said to him he looked up and suppressed a smirk. "Then tell me, Overlord, what is it that you've got!"

"Foolish mortal," he said mockingly, letting his wings carry him and keep him airborne. "The blood of young Vejiita holds the key to the legendary Super Saiyajin, and holds open the path for me to create a Chikurajin with more strength and the power to step out of the shadow of the Eternal Dragons and become one on my behalf. That's what I have and will have, thanks to you, young prince."

"There was never any blood of anyone named Vejiita, Darken." Gular said, utterly calm all of the sudden, as if he was actually shocked by what Darken had said. For Gular realized that the blood of the firstborn, as he had understood and remembered, was blood taken from Vejiita's sister. It hadn't been the firstborn carrying the name of Vejiita. Did this mean Gular had failed on his mission? No, he was certain the blood of Kaiyl, as he recalled the girl was named, was at least as valuable as that of her brother, Vejiita no Ouji. The girl had power buried inside of her that was tremendous and breathtaking so he was very sure it wouldn't pose for any disadvantage to Darken, actually seen. But obviously, Gular wasn't going to share such knowledge with that malignant man!

He looked up to the dragon, which was dangerously silent. "What are you saying? What do you mean never any blood of anyone named Vejiita?"

Gular held his gaze. "Just as I said it, Darken. The blood I took wasn't Vejiita's. It was taken from his weak sister, the Saiyajin no Oujo."

"No!" Ryuu Darken protested, his tail lashing about nervously, "You're bluffing!"

"Not this time, Darken."

Ryuu Darken didn't believe him, even if he wanted to. He remembered a trait that had developed long ago, a tradition held onto by each and every Saiyajin. Their names: there had always been a pattern in the names and Darken could detect what was and wasn't an actual Saiyajin name. What was the chance Gular knew any female Saiyajin name? Virtually zero, right? This meant that if the Chikurajin Prince was lying, Darken would simply find out by asking Gular what name the Saiyajin no Oujo bore.

"Her name, Gular. Tell me her name."

Gular put his hands akimbo, and smirked. "I don't see how telling her name will help you but very well, I'll tell you her name. Her name is, or is partially, Kaiyl. That's what her father called her so I…"

Gular was cut off in the middle. Enraged by the fact Gular most likely hadn't been lying, Ryuu Darken had opened his muzzle filled with rows and rows of razor-sharp incisors and gathered the energy inside of him to form an endless blast of fire, aimed at Gular.

"I'll kill you, you insolent brat!" the dragon roared, infuriated and blinded by his own rage, taking him over until all that was left was pure spite and fury.

"I'll kill you!"

At that, Ryuu Darken folded his wings and let himself drop, diving for Gular, aiming for a kill. Unexpectedly, he spread his wings and held himself poised in mid-air, hanging over Gular. He made eye contact with the red haired boy and as soon as he caught his attention he hurled his black tail at Gular.

Gular had seen the attack coming from the very beginning and jumped out of the way, avoiding a direct hit. With the tip of the tail brushing passed his cheek, the sharp spikes at the end drew four lines that turned bloody soon after. Touching his cheek, Gular wiped away the blood and growled at the Overlord.

Ryuu Darken laughed scornfully, still hanging over Gular, looking at the boy as if he were worth nothing. "Your sister," he said.

Clenching his hands into fists, Gular deepened his scowl. "What about her!"

"I sent out a decent patrol of fifty-five soldiers to kill her. I, of course, offered them a good deal in return so I will be certain you or your sister's babble won't change their minds. If they bring back to me, the bleeding corpse of your sister, their family will be kept alive. If not, they'll lose the only things they really care about…" He chuckled. "Sometimes emotion does prove useful, doesn't it? Your sister will die at the hands of the very army that was erected nineteen years ago, at your birth, just to protect the Children of Ryuuguu, the Children Bearing the Sign of the Higher Dragon. Too bad it didn't help you for I will hear her scream spread across this world, carried across plain and woodland, so loud and gruesome you will hear it moments before I'll finish you off myself. Her cry will most definitely be filled with the same despair as the one your mother let out when I threatened to infect her children with the same disease that I polluted her with." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink into Gular like poison. "Yes, Gular, I killed them. I killed your mommy and daddy and I will have your sister killed, too."

He had known it all along, from the inside. Still, the confession came as a shock to Gular. The boy had pushed away the pain and fear he had bore with him for so long from the moment he had left the safe compounds of Ryuuguu. But enough was enough. Nobody would dare touch his sister. He wouldn't allow Darken to get away with it, he wouldn't even allow Darken to think it. Boiling from the inside he felt how a roar of rage spread through his body, infesting his brain with the purest form of pain he had ever felt. It was the pain of rejection, of betrayal; it was the pain of fear. The fear of losing his sister awakened a fury within, ignited the urge for him to put an end to all this.

"You won't… get away with this…" he stammered, barely understanding what he was saying, "I won't let you! I'll _never_ let you get away with this! Mark my words!"

He spread out his arms, unable to control himself, unable to extinguish or quench the fire that burst inside of him. When Ryuu Darken realized what was happening, the beast attacked but for some reason was incapable of approaching Gular within a three metre circle. It seemed like Gular was protected by an untold force.

The boy bent over slightly and screamed with all his might prior to have wings grow from his shoulders that caught fire moments later.

"No! You can't reach _Taihen no Ryuu_! That is _not_ possible!" Darken cried, his bestial fury deforming his voice into a loud snarl.

Gular kept his eyes shut, ignoring whatever Darken was saying; he didn't care. His eyes shone through their eyelids, and as his wings continued to burn, the fire spread across his body. First, his hair caught fire, and then his entire body until it seemed Gular had vanished in the depth of the flames.

Like a phoenix rising from its own ashes, a creature, reborn and full of might, stepped out of the fire, absorbing each and every flame till they were no more.

A new Prince of the Chikurajin, a new Gular, had emerged, pure and different from before.

"What are you! You can't be! You can't…" Again, Darken's words were lost in the cry of his dragon-form, and he was unable to shape what he wanted to say.

Without looking at the dragon, the creature that in some ways was still Gular, answered in a resonant, distinct voice. "_Watashi wa Ryoku da. __Watashi wa kokoronokinsen da_. I am power. I am the innermost soul." Then, he opened his eyes and revealed to Ryuu Darken what in fact the latter was dealing with. Ryoku Gular opened his mouth, keeping his intense glare fixated onto Darken. "_Shine_! Die!"

Looking in the eyes of a creature that powerful, Overlord Darken was actually startled for a moment for he knew what he was opposing and although he would have denied relentlessly, Darken was afraid, unable to budge. What exactly that surprised stare of his meant wasn't clear. Did it mean Darken was confronted with a creature stronger than him, or was there more to it, was there a different reason altogether?

As Gular had screamed, a wide blast emerged from his mouth, evaporating the black dragon that still hovered before him within a second.

Whether or not this blast had killed Darken didn't matter to Ryoku Gular right now. What mattered to him was to make sure his sister was safe. He let himself dissolve into the sky, undoubtedly rushing to his sister. In whatever shape or form he was right now, Gular still cared only for his sister…

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Author's Note: You're likely to have a lot of questions. Be patient. You'll find out.

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	17. Tale 14 Between the Wars 1

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Fourteen ---Between The Wars Part One---**  
Rating: T**

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Uyra had been very hesitant when her brother had told her to take care of the Humans. She didn't know what they were like, what they looked like, what they were in need of. Such thoughts had frightened her.

Despite everything that had happened, she still trusted her brother and she was certain he had given other options a thought as well before asking for his sister's help.

Uyra had also been surprised; surprised these aliens had been able to fly a spaceship without having it crash. She had understood from the things Gular had told her that spaceships were really hard to understand let alone fly. But she soon found out the pilot, a human girl in her mid twenties, had a decent amount of technical knowledge that was much alike technology found here. The pilot, whose name was Winter, also had a stowaway brother aboard. The boy, who was of about Uyra's age, had not only surprised Uyra but his own sister, Winter, as well.

Apparently, he had kept hidden in the ship for quite a while, lucky to find out the soldiers hadn't emptied the food cabinet of the spaceship. He had waited for the right time to free his sister but had found himself unable to get out of the ship. The coincidence that a complete stranger had freed his sister, as well as the other women and had led them to the very spaceship in which Fall, Winter's brother, was contained was Kami's intervention, Fall thought.

Uyra didn't understand who Kami was and had asked them. Kami proved to be some sort of deity, much in the way Therin and Rhym were to the Chikurajin. Kami wasn't as high as for instance Lord Murass: that much was clear to Uyra from the beginning. Kami was just God of Chikyuu, the home planet of Humans.

Finding such similarities; love and devotion between a brother and sister, and the existence of one or more deities reassured Uyra that these Humans weren't that different from Chikurajin after all.

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The sky filled with panic stricken birdlike creatures emitting high-pitched shrieks of terror. Numerous columns and one major corps of enemy soldiers marched out of the woodlands, toward the mountain edge, their firm stride reverberating over the landscape of blue-green valleys, trees and mountaintops.  
A pale haired girl looked at the valley below, clenched one hand into a fist and called for her friend. "Uyra!" she screamed, "Fighters are approaching!" She held up her dress to help her move and almost bumped into Uyra as the latter came rushing out the cave to see what Cyane was so worked up about.

Then, the girl saw for herself. Cyane was right: Fighters were indeed marching towards the cave, not in the least slowed down from the high climb the bare mountain insisted upon.  
Uyra knew she had to act quickly, for her sake as well as that of the others. She bared her teeth for a moment and knew she hadn't much of a choice.  
"I know a hide out!" she yelled determinately, "Follow me!"

All made their way out of the cave, Humans and Healers. One, however, was missing. It was Cyane's brother. Dyla knew he was missing, and she had no idea where to look, nor the time. The enemy was approaching rapidly and she was nearing a panic. "Where's Fringe!" the old woman shrieked, "I can't find him anywhere!"

"There's no time! We must go," Uyra replied firmly, "Now!"

Cyane looked at her frightened companions. Even Uyra seemed upset, and although she had only known her for a few months, she had never seen the girl this tense.  
"I'll stay," the pale haired Cyane said ultimately. And even though Uyra was against it, and had ordered the girl to go along with the others, Cyane held her ground and beseeched her friend to rescue not only Dyla but the Humans also.  
Dyla was the eldest of the few Healers left and they needed for her to survive, for her wisdom to be continued; the future of their entire race depended upon it.  
Cyane knew Uyra was the only one outside Gular who held knowledge of a way out, so Uyra would be the sole key of Dyla's survival, perhaps even that of the Chikura-jin themselves. Thus, Cyane was the only one who remained by the entrance of the cave Gular and Uyra had lived for most of their lives now.

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Flying high over treetops, the grey post-storm clouds his friends, Ryoku Gular soared far above the vast wall of soldiers approaching the hideout he called his home. He knew why they had come although he couldn't understand how they could have found the perfectly hidden inlet within a sea of solid rock. As he had landed by the entrance of the cavern, knowing he had little time to leave safely before the enemy would arrive, he looked for his sibling, unable to spot the girl amidst the hastily evacuated compounds.

He walked around, looking at a surroundings filled with memories of his childhood. Gular had lived here for most of his life and had depended upon the company and love of his sister to keep him going. He recalled the promise he had bestowed upon himself on behalf of his parents, to take care of Uyra, to rebuild the kingdom and prowess of the Chikurajin one day. Fulfilling such promises seemed so far away now, that Gular had a hard time remembering why he had promised his father to rebuild something he had sole bad memories of. And from what fellow soldiers had let him in on, none of them was waiting for the old situation to be restored. Regardless, one promise he would never even consider abandoning and that was to protect his sister.

Just as he was beginning to suspect no one was there, he heard the distressed voice of a girl he had only met once, drifting through air, reaching his mind as it dug a way into him, touching his soul to the extent that it nearly frightened him. As far as he recalled, she was Cyane, one of the Healers Uyra had befriended a while ago.

Ceaselessly, Cyane kept calling for her brother. "Fringe! Fringe, where are you? Answer me!"

Locating the girl was the easy part, as all Ryoku Gular needed to do was focus. But then, calming her down, now there was a challenge! At first, Gular had no idea why Cyane screamed upon seeing him; he was pretty sure she would've remembered him. Only after trying to get the girl to make some sense for little over a minute did he realize why she was so scared of him. Gular was no longer the Chikurajin boy Cyane had met some two weeks ago; Gular had turned into Ryoku Gular and but remotely resembled his old self.

Yet how on Chikura was he going to explain this to Cyane? Did she even know of the existence of Ryoku Chikurajin? Had there even been any mortal, ever, to have witnessed the presence of a Ryoku? Gular highly doubted it, in fact, he was convinced he was the only living creature to have experienced its occurrence in the past millennia.

"Cyane," he pleaded, attempting to keep his voice as gentle as he possibly could, "Cyane, it's me: Gular. I'm here to help you and I'll help you find your brother, okay?"

After having resisted his grip for a tad longer, Cyane stared at the creature in front of her. "Gular?" she wondered, "What happened to you?"

Gular frowned, not really sure of how he should answer her question. "Where's my sister?"

The girl met up with his eyes, the snow-white centre of her stare startling him. She remained mute, however.

"Cyane...?"

Still, the girl was silent, until the very moment Gular thought she wasn't going to reply. The girl simply gaped at him incredulously. "_Gular-san_," she spoke eventually, "_Anata wa Ryoku no Chikurajin desu ka?_"

Gular looked at the girl, and only now did he notice how beautiful she actually was. "Yes," he replied tersely. When she continued staring at him he was beginning to not only feel uncomfortable, he begun losing his patience. "Yes, I have achieved Ryoku. I am now the Power of the Chikura-jin. Satisfied?" It struck him the girl was upset as her eyes were filled with unshed tears and just now did he remember she had been searching for her little brother. Gular chewed the inside of his cheek. He decided to repeat his question in hopes of the girl answering. He could now even hear the soldiers approach; there wasn't much time left. "Cyane, do you know where Uyra is?"

The girl still stared at him, though she looked less startled than before. "Uyra went to a second hideout. She took the Humans and my grandmother with her. I stayed behind to find Fringe," she replied deadpan.  
To Gular Cyane seemed calmer than he could remember. He nodded, understanding. "Let's find him, then..." he said decisively, "And get the two of you to safety."

Cyane nodded in response. She had always known she could trust Gular, from the moment they had met. She believed Gular truly was the only hope they had left and although he kept it well hidden, she knew he didn't hold the same faith even though she didn't understand.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Darken fumed, literally. As he reluctantly got up he looked about him, confused. He wasn't entirely sure of what he had just witnessed and he wasn't too sure whether or not to be pleased about it either. Ryoku no Chikurajin, as they were aptly called were a form of Chikurajin lingering between dragon and eternal dragon. Darken didn't know much about it but he was convinced Gular had just achieved such level. One thing he couldn't even remotely comprehend: how could that boy have summoned such tremendous amount of energy? Would this mean Gular would one day be able to ascend to the rank of a genuine Eternal Guardian? If so, Lord Murass himself would interfere undoubtedly.

The Overlord hissed, stretching. Such event would never occur, he told himself. Why? Because Darken would kill that insolent little brat, that's why!

Looking out over the burnt down, lifeless field, Darken eventually set his eyes upon the horizon, making up his mind for good. This time he wasn't going to hold back. This time, he'd finish him off once and for all. Gular would perish, and the legacy of Ryoku no Chikurajin would die with him. For Darken had much, much bigger plans at hand.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Locating Fringe was again relatively easy for all Gular had to do was focus his mind and attempt to read the energy Fringe emitted amidst all other life-forms.

Because he had been blessed with the ability of advanced telepathy from childhood, and had only further developed such skills, Gular could connect with minds far away, further away than even planetary plain. This of course made the amount of spirits and other life forms skimming his conscience each moment, absolutely outrageous. The Chikurajin had had a very hard time controlling this gift, or curse if you look upon it a different way. In time however, he had learned to deal with it and henceforth could locate specific life forms at least in the vicinity of a planet and perhaps a little outside Chikura-sei's sphere.

Relaxed, maybe a bit too relaxed, Gular walked up to a small bush of an Arlu-related plant, knowing Fringe was hiding in the midst of its thick leaves.  
After having found the child, Gular took him under one arm, Cyane under the other, and took to the sky effortlessly.  
Soon, he landed by Uyra's side, at the hideout he knew Cyane had been talking about.

It never took long for Uyra to notice her brother. Although being surprised, the girl was glad to see her sibling.  
"Gular!" she cried, "How did you...?"  
Gular however, didn't grant Uyra the time to finish her sentence.  
"I'll explain everything later, gotta go!" he interrupted his pale haired sister.  
As swiftly as he had come, he took off again, leaving Uyra but to stare. Although she'd been given only the chance to catch a glimpse of Gular, she had instantly realized he had been different from how she remembered him.

Flashes of rocks and plains covered in trees and bush passed Ryoku Gular by at a massive speed. In mid air, he contacted his sister through telepathy as he felt the need to explain to her why he had taken off so swiftly and hadn't even granted his sister the chance to greet and possibly embrace him.

_:Uyra, I'm off to stall the legion that's on the way to our old hide-out…:_

For but a moment Gular had almost wanted to call the hide-out his home, and in general, the cavern had been his home from early childhood. The citadel of Ryuuguu had been his home in a past lifetime, at least, it almost seemed that way to Gular. :I'm going to put a halt to their onslaught. I know they will not rest before they've found either of us, and I fear innocent villagers will be victimized because of it. Take care of everyone back there; they'll need your strength more than I do.:

Uyra didn't reply instantly, when she did it was entirely off topic, important nevertheless.

_:.:You've changed more than I would've thought. Did Darken do this to you, or was it the dragon in your heart:.:_

Gular spread out his arms in front of him, balling his hands into fists, swiftly approaching the core of where the enemy was. Part of him wanted to smile for his sister's never relenting curiosity but the boy had more important matters to deal with.

_:I have achieved the power to awaken Ryoku no Chikurajin. I'm not sure how but I did. Don't worry about me; in the end I'm still the same.:_ The boy replied mentally.

Young Uyra sighed, trying to take it all in. She brushed a strand of pure white hair out of her pale face.

_:.:So, has Darken finally turned against you:.:_

Gular's face remained blank, emotionless as he manoeuvred in between a set of clouds, noticing a long trail of soldiers headed for the hide out. He frowned, determination readable in his eyes. Who had really turned on whom?

_:It doesn't matter:_ he said in Uyra's mind, _:All that matters is that I'm on your side, always have and always will be.:_

He then banned her out of his thoughts and agilely landed, facing Fighters all around, mountains in his back, woodlands and valleys as far as the eye could see in front of him, covered with soldiers.

Gular narrowed his eyes, furrowing his brow.  
"I give you two options: either you turn over your weapons and join forces with the Healers to free yourselves from the yoke of Darken, or you bite the dust," he spoke without a sense of fear or insecurity, without blinking. Gular had made up his mind about the situation a while ago. He knew a lot of them had supported Darken long before he had even been an Overlord. He also knew most had families to take care of, wanting nothing but to feed them, clothe them, and keep them from harm. In the end, Darken had proved to let the growing power he was awarded with turn on him and consume him to the point he had become the maniacal tyrant he was today. How much further Darken would go in his despotism Gular could only suspect; in truth, Gular would at least try to stop the man.

As his eyes traced the men in front line he recognized some of them as the initial elite Darken had kept close to him the day he and Gular had met.  
One of the vanguards was the tall and muscular Chikura-jin known as Ambroze, the Overlord's left hand. His ebon stare was fixed onto Gular's as he replied fearlessly, his voice filled with repressed anger. "I laugh at you and the mere Healers," he spoke.

Gular felt no necessity in sugar-coating any of his intentions. He quirked an eyebrow, slightly cocking his head to one side, nearly ridiculing the man.  
"So be it," the young Chikura-jin said, "Bring it on." Narrowing his eyes by squinting them, his facial expression remained as calm as it could get save the wrinkle at his brow.  
"You of all should know I am much stronger than you will ever be," he concluded, slamming a fist into his hand palm to emphasize his statement.  
None of the soldiers responded to Gular's blunt statement; all awaited Ambroze's reaction. The latter just laughed and without any preliminary, he sent a powerful bluish ki blast at Gular, while the other Fighters still watched in silence.

As the ball of light flew forward, Ryoku Gular watched in a similar muteness, not the least bothered by the attack aimed at him. As soon as the energy erupted by the ball blew up Gular's hair, the boy moved his head aside by bending his spine a little, easily avoiding a hit. Even before Ambroze had registered what had just happened, Gular charged at him, accelerating quickly.  
When he was just within Ambroze's grasp, he swiftly somersaulted over the black haired Chikura-jin, kicking him from behind thereby knocking the breath out of his opponent. Ambroze turned, gasped for air and intended to punch Gular, soon noticing all he hit was air. His eyes widened, for the boy was nowhere to be seen.

"Behind you, Ambroze!" shrieked Ouram, one of the other black haired soldiers at vanguard.  
Once more, Ambroze pivoted, now facing Gular.  
The angered Chikura-jin bared his teeth, showing the pallor of his gums in his rage. Finally, he noticed the glow in Gular's eyes, the aura enveloping him, and the difference in appearance. Obviously, even though he was still the same in conduct, Gular had gine through tremendous changes. His body had been altered due to the transformation, he looked a lot more powerful, and frankly, he was a lot more powerful.  
The foolish soldier frowned, pulling on his black goatee.  
"Why are you glowing like that? _Yamero_! It annoys me!"

Gular blinked slowly, eyes burning into Ambroze's, causing his opponent to notice Gular actually lacked pupils, the red glare reflecting in his own stare that repressed his growing fear.  
Young Gular noticed, and laughed as he responded, "You'll see..." he teased, "Let's keep it at this: I am radiating with anger."

"Well then, let me put your lights out!" Ambroze shouted with laughter, revealing a minute tone of fright that was hard to detect at first, but overtaking more and more as time passed.  
Ambroze however, did not plan to let enough time pass for Gular to take the advantage as he gathered up energy and sent a wide blast of fire at the boy.  
Ryoku Gular had no time to dodge the immense wall of fire and thus absorbed everything, trying to spare the flora and fauna in the vicinity. As he opened his eyes, Ryoku Gular smirked, aiming his dignified glare for Ambroze only.  
Ambroze couldn't believe it. Prince Gular hadn't broken a sweat. Prince Gular hadn't a scratch, nothing marring his radiating body, glowing with perfection. Gular seemed more powerful than ever before. In fact, in the eyes of that foolishly ignorant warrior, Gular suddenly seemed terrifyingly perfect.  
Ambroze on the other hand, since he had been trained to be a warrior since childhood, ignored the tiny voices in his head telling him to back away slowly, instead, he started boiling with anger, biased fury eating away his sanity.  
"Aaaaaghr!" he roared, "I will take you down, brat, no matter what!"

Gular on the other hand kept calm, and just stared at the raven haired man. Then, as to invite the man to take his words into action, he retorted confidently, clenching his fists as he brought them to his chest.

"Give me your best shot, Ambroze. But don't expect me to go easy on you. Not as easy as you will be to me!"

"Hahahaha! Is this supposed to intimidate me?"

Ambroze was either really brave or incredibly stupid, Ryoku Gular thought to himself. He looked at the other soldiers. Most were quiet, or tried to find reassurance amongst fellow combatants. Quite possibly, none of them had any idea on what Gular really was. Of course they knew he was the lawful prince of Chikurajin and heir to the throne, such was common knowledge. But had any of them even the slightest notion that the legends of Fuhen no Ryuu or Eternal Dragons, Taihen no Ryuu and Ryoku Chikurajin were genuine? Did any of them realize what they were witnessing was the birth of a creature no mortal had seen up close for thousands and thousands of years?

Gular realized he hadn't been paying enough attention the moment the blast hit him full on.

Even though he didn't really feel as much pain as he would've expected, he was gust backwards and smashed to the ground, nearly touching a massive rock formation, his horns glimmering on and off in shades of black.  
He lay flat on his back, motionless for a moment or two. He held his eyes open, looking up to the sky. Ryoku Gular saw how clouds were clearing away and one of the suns was beginning to free itself from the cover that had obscured it from shining down on Chikura-sei.

"Ouch," Gular heard Ouram comment, "That must've hurt. Let me finish him off for good."

Gular, though he stayed where he was, was aware of what was happening in the near distance in front.

He heard how the two officers begun quarrelling and wondered how on Chikura-sei they ever could have been promoted to lieutenant in the first place.

"No way," Ambroze protested. "I attacked him, so I'm entitled to claiming his head."

"You always get to kill the important ones, regardless of which one of us launched the assault. This time, it's my turn!"

Ambroze laughed at Ouram. "Tough. I'm more important than you are. Deal with it."

"Oh I'll deal with you!" Ouram snarled.

Calmly, Gular got up. He flicked some dirt off his clothes – or what was left of them – and rubbed his hands as if contemplating on what he should do with them.

"Ding! Time's up, boys," he said, "Guess it's my turn now."

He smirked and closed his eyes for a moment. He let the wings that rested over his head clasp one another and the fire still consuming them danced politely to the wind as not to offend it. He pulled up his hands, bringing them aside his chest. As he opened his hands, aiming his palms at the sky all his opponents did was stare, utterly awed by the spectacle evolving before them.

Gulars eyes shone and massive fangs had replaced his usual quite flattened incisors in the corner of his mouth. His wings moved incessantly up and down and it seemed he would take to the sky any minute.

His voice changed, illustrating the power he was conjuring up from within.

"Up for the challenge of a lifetime? Or would you rather be ensured of sitting at the family table tonight reminiscing that you made the right choice? Reminiscing that you were wise today? Reminiscing it was a good thing you walked away?"

As he gradually, ever so slowly, took to the sky he kept his hands in place and remained unbiased by the awed men below. So, did they finally realize what he truly was? Even so, Gular didn't really care.

"I give you such opportunity," he spoke, "I grant you the chance of walking away. I give you this chance right now, and only now."

He closed his eyes once more and waited. He had no idea how many of them would take him seriously. He had no intention of killing any of these soldiers, even if they'd betrayed him. To Gular, only the value of their life mattered, and he wasn't planning on taking it from them. On the other hand, Gular had no idea on how he could ever control the fury raging within him, the unimaginable power he had been awarded with. But he had pleaded all he could, there wasn't much left he could do save hope he wouldn't kill them upon opening his eyes.

His head pounded. He could sense how badly the power wanted to burst out and shatter from him. He had to release his anger, he had to make clear he wasn't joking around.

When he finally opened his eyes all he could was hover limply, perpetually hanging in the aura of his own fire. He heard the screaming of men in anguish, far below. The screaming never died down, only appeared to increase in strength, although it seemed further away than Gular knew the unfortunate souls producing these screams were.

But there was nothing he could do. He couldn't control the rage within. He couldn't handle the power that had unleashed itself, unbound by Gular's will or bidding.

No matter how much he wanted to end it, Gular could not. He had neither the willpower nor strength to seize the onslaught he had allowed to run free.

But then, if he had wanted to capture and control the immense power he breathed, he couldn't; it would have killed him.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Things passed him by like a ghost. He had no idea what was real, what an illusion. Was he dreaming? Over and over he could feel how he fell to the ground, and died. What was happening to him? The screaming wouldn't end, the intolerable torture of young men, soldiers forced by Darken to fight for a regime that didn't even exist, that kept gnawing at his knees, feverishly nibbling away the flesh in his calves, making him feel mutilated and cold.

What was this feeling taking him over? Why was he unable to move, no matter how badly he wanted to?

As if drawn to him like a moth to the flame two fabulously divine dragons, radiating with power unlike anything Gular had ever seen or would ever be able to see, shot forward, wielding themselves around him like the wrapping of a birthday present.

Again he could feel how he was growing limb, how he fell down, unable to remain uplifted any longer. Somehow he was kept aloft, held in the grace and splendour of the dragons evolving him.

He wanted to get away from them but he was unable to move.

"Falling back to the pollution of pure darkness is not the way of the dragon, young prince."

Both had spoken to him simultaneously, the impact of their voices too much for Gular to bear. He wanted to cover his ears, he didn't want to listen. The dragons however held him close, suspended in their ethereal godlike aura.

"Forgiveness is a virtue you have never really grasped," one of them said. Gular suspected he was Porunga, as his body was very much alike the descriptions his mother had given when he had only been a child. Honestly, who else could these dragons be but Shenlon and Porunga, known to Chikurajin as Therin and Rhym?

"You must forgive them. They aren't aware of the malice the Hakaisha has cast upon us all since the beginning of time. Forgive them. Do not fight them, do not lower yourself to the standards of a man without any standard whatsoever." Shenlon's voice was at least as impressive as Porunga's and all Gular could do was agree with them. There was no point in denying, there was no use in fighting the Will of the Gods.

"Forgive them…"

He was shaking all over, unable to focus. The voices were fading, and he could barely make out what they were saying. _The Future… Past and… The Now. All Intertwined. Whole and scattered, and Upside Down…_

What were they talking about? What did this mean?

_You Can see. If you forgive them, you Will see…_

_Forgive them…_

All he knew next was how he opened his eyes and was confronted with an image he only remembered from a vision he had had earlier, weeks ago. He had presumed all the destruction and death he had seen on account of the dragons had been caused by the Overlord but as he looked over the barren, battered valley he was struck with a sudden realization it was his fault all along.

Everything had been burned alive, scorched and destroyed. Nothing was left in the vicinity. Everything as far as the eye reached, had been obliterated, including each and every of the soldiers.

They hadn't been innocent, Gular knew this. Some of them had even been part of the assemblies raiding villages, raping women and children. But a lot of them had never been given a choice upon fighting for the Overlord's ill will. Many of them had been gathered from local towns as mere children to become well oiled war machines. They were dead. All of them were.

As he fell to his knees he finally noticed he was his old self again, naked and vulnerable. He plunged his hands into the singed earth and wept. _Forgive me_, he beseeched quietly. _Please, forgive me…_

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Even at such a young age, Prince Vejiita was confronted with the hardships of warfare and the cruelty of enslavery and extortion of men, women and children from planet after planet he, his bodyguard Nappa and Furiiza's crew were confronted with, or rather ignited.

No matter how the young prince had protested, Furiiza's will was word, and the Saiyajin no Ouji was forced to work alongside second and third class warriors of Furiiza's immense army. To make matters worse for the proud boy, most of them weren't even Saiyajin.

Aside from the weekly beatings he received from Zarbon, who obviously still outclassed him by far, he had to do Furiiza's dirty work. Vejiita was part of one of many Clean Out Combat Units, or COCs. Most of them were second or third class and sent out to the planets overgrown with so called weeds. The COCs were often aptly nicknamed Furriza's Extermination Squad as they destroyed the planet's natives so the brokers could sell off the bare planets for further exploitation.

Vejiita absolutely hated it. Not only was he forced to battle alongside low class warriors, and was he forced to exterminate weak natives without any warrior background of any kind, he was obliged to take orders from a second class sergeant. Weakly put, Vejiita found such treatment rather humiliating.

In the end, even though he was only five years old, Vejiita took over command, simply because he killed everyone contradicting him or ordering him around.

Too bad for the little kid, the ones making the decisions in the end, in other words Zarbon, Dodoria and – of course – Furiiza himself, took no negation from the boy at all.

This of course resulted in more beatings Zarbon lashed down onto the young Saiyajin Prince, shaping the boy to an extent that even worried the King of Saiyajin.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

He tried not to be bothered too much by his deeds. He couldn't let them bother him now. He would find his punishment later. Though he felt sick thinking it, there were more important matters to tend to now.

"Hi Cyane," he said. The look upon his face was void from any disturbance or sorrow, however, on the inside, Gular wanted nothing more than to break down and cry. "Where's Uyra?" He shared an assuring smile, a small drop of sweat drifting onto his temple, which was the only suggestion he let out indicating something might be wrong.

Cyane looked up, meeting with his eyes. She returned his smile, her enthusiasm greater than his.  
"Gular-san! You're back already!" Suddenly, she tried to hold back, for reasons Gular could not determine. She also shunned looking at him, something he couldn't place either. Gular had never had the chance to have realized he was actually a very attractive young man, his usually direct gaze startling most teenage girls if it hadn't been for the fact he had been isolated for so many years of his young life, deploring this. In the back of his head he felt a small hint she might actually have a bit of a crush on him but other thoughts, and images of death took over soon enough. He hadn't time to wonder about a thing so trivial.

Cyane took an overly conscious breath before finally resuming, determined to answer Gular's question. Her hand touched the back of his, catching his attention. "Uyra-chan is at the lake, helping the Humans," she spoke.  
He looked at her a second time, the paleness of her eyes sending a strange feeling of calm throughout his entire being, confusing him greatly.  
Gular felt awkward, unable to explain _why_ he was so happy to see the girl.

He had never even thought about it, lest it would demolish his usual focus. More so, Gular had never felt like this. Had the dragons done this to him? Had the dragons changed him upon their sudden touch? Or had these feelings always been there, had he simply pushed them away before?

He frowned, trying not to give it any more thought. He nodded at the pale haired girl and left to look for his sister.

The serenity of the cool mountain stream somehow renewed the drained energy that had flowed out of the women since their capture a few weeks earlier. The Humans seemed happier now, grateful they weren't being held captive any longer.  
"Why aren't you like the others of your planet?" Winter asked.

Uyra looked at the woman, finding her looks fascinating, her hair auburn as a tree-trunk, but paler at some points, bright streaks as clear as that of a young branch. All of these humans looked so very different from the Chikurajin though held a lot of similarities at the same time, one of them being their bare skin, hands and feet.

Of course, these humans had a skin that did not have hints of their heritage, much like the Chikurajin did have at some points. Chikurajin bore the hints that they had once all been dragons, especially at points where bone lay close to skin-surface. Uyra did wonder from which species the Humans had evolved. Or could Humans have always been like this?

She nodded to Winter's earlier question, understanding what she meant, and actually surprised by the fact she understood their language as if it were her own. She knew this was a trait Chikurajin held naturally, coming to them at birth, and quite possibly even earlier. For a moment Uyra did wonder why and if she even did differ that much from the Fighter Chikurajin.  
"The ones who kidnapped you were Chikura Ilrindûmé. We are the healing dragon-people, or Chikura Sanûmé. We do not follow the same path the Ilrindûmé do. We walk a path of peace and spiritual growth. Although our people are on the edge of extinction, we don't wander off. We keep on following this spiritual path in order to have a safe and peaceful future. We know one day all will be as it once was. I am sure my children will live in a peaceful world. I will do anything to give it to them. But what am I babbling..." She laughed ruefully. "We should find a way to get you back to your home planet." Uyra smiled at the young women of about her age, sensing she felt torn, homesick and afraid.

Uyra had no idea how she felt herself. Why was she speaking of spiritual growth and what not when all that really mattered to her was her brother, his well-being.

Where did her sudden interest for the subtle differences between Ilrindûmé and Sanûmé come from? She had never cared for any differences, never even noticed them.

So, where did all this come from all of the sudden? And, was this change really sudden, or had it taken much longer to manifest itself whilst it'd been slumbering inside of her for ages? Uyra did not know, and she wasn't very sure she really wished to know in the first place. Could it be that not Darken but their heritage was driving her and her brother apart?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

He had dropped off Cyane and her little brother by the entrance of their latest hiding place.

Gular and Uyra had stayed here for about a week and a half, years ago. They had found several caverns, some inhabited by carnivores hardly posing a threat to Chikurajin, others since long deserted. This cave was one of only a few deserted ones, well, deserted save the bugs and bats of course.

Uyra had suggested, when she was about six or seven years old, to search for a number of caves to live in, just in case some illwilled monarchy hating individual would find and wish to harm them. At first, Gular had laughed at his young sister but he realized she did make a point, as always. In the end, he had done as she said, resulting in an entire network of caverns and hide-outs across Chikura-sei.

Reluctantly Cyane had let Gular leave, to check up on Uyra. Dyla, Cyane's grandmother, had told him Uyra had gone to the southern lake to assure the Humans there wasn't a Fighter near, and there'd be enough natural resources to at least acquire some stocks for this looming winter.

As Gular made his way through the tall grass, waving about his arms to keep his balance, he thought of what Dyla had told him, and the way she had said it.

She, as well as he knew how severe winters had been the past decade. Climates were changing, covering the world in frost and snow. Often, it wouldn't even snow, and if it would, blizzards and storms swept the country. Autumn and winter were arid, rare snow dry like powder or dust.

Last winter had been a particularly harsh one, and Gular could only hope the next would be less demanding.

He looked up to the sky, with two bold suns shining down on him. One was half-hidden behind the other, and only now did Gular notice how low they were suspended this year. He wondered if the altered course of the planet had something to do with it. The planet seemed very sensitive to its inhabitant's emotional changes. It was almost as if Chikurajin hardships influenced the planet's course and climate.

Gular smiled to himself. _I'm such a fool sometimes_, he thought.

Right, the planet's being influenced by its inhabitants. It's inanimate! It's just a solid ball of rock and dust.

Right?

He halted for a moment, allowing himself to think for a while longer. Carried from the distance, he heard his sister explaining the use of Arlu as a resource for most anything. Apparently, the girl hadn't the hope of being able to bring these Humans back home, had she? At the very least she supposed they'd stay till the end of the winter, which to itself wasn't that bad of an estimate. The summer was coming to an end, and within about a week or two everything would begin to wither. Quite possibly, the last rain had already fallen and another great breath before the plunge would be announcing itself within the next few days.

As he approached her she turned to greet him. She definitely had inherited her mother's hearing, which by far outclassed his. She might even have the ability of hearing a bug climb an Arlu tree all the way across the lake, Gular thought for a minute.

"We should find a way to bring them back home," he told her in his native tongue, "I can see it in their eyes; they want nothing more than to go back to Earth, to their loved ones."

Uyra nodded. "I know," she said, "But I can't help but fear there's no way back for them. I'm not sure why… I just do."

"Well, I do see your point since for starters we don't know where this planet Earth is. However…" He paused, rolling his eyes as if thinking.

Uyra looked at him, waiting for him to explain himself.

"There might be a way. Darken had this map. It contains coordinates of a whole lot of planets and galaxies. I believe each gallery has a list of planets he wished to raid for DNA material. I'm pretty sure Earth was mentioned in one of them."

Uyra shook her head. "Gular," she protested lightly, "Do you have any idea how vast these galaxies are? Do you have any clue where to begin? And what if you _do_ find the right galaxy, then what?"

"By the Gods, Uyra!" her brother snapped, "Can't you be optimistic for once!"

Startled by the young man's sudden outburst, the women looked at him with a testimony of fright radiating from them that brought Gular back to his senses.

Uyra sternly shook her head. "It's too dangerous, brother. Just getting the map is by far too dangerous. I don't even want to know how you got away safely from Darken's clutches this time."

Gular laughed in response. "Darken's dead." He snickered, quite full of himself.

The girl frowned. "What! How?"

"Does it matter?" he replied, and took off.

Uyra knew where he was headed, and she didn't like the feel of it. Could Darken really be dead? And if so, why didn't she feel very safe?

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Author's Note: I'm sorry this chapter had to be so long. I already divided it in several parts. If it's too long, let me know. And, it's supposed to be a little confusing right now.

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	18. Tale 15 Between the Wars 2

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Fifteen ---Between The Wars Part Two---**  
Rating: T**

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Gular rushed beyond clouds, soon reaching the horizon, then chasing the new horizon that emerged in front of him. He knew Darken might still be alive although he didn't see how. How could anyone have survived the power Ryoku Gular had unleashed? How could he himself have survived?

Thoughts flared up inside of him beyond control. Confusing thoughts, outrageous thoughts. What was happening to him? Had he really changed that much?

As the base camp came into view in the distance the incessant smoke billowing from the encampment frightened him. What had happened here?

He landed. The camp was utterly lifeless, save the scavenging predators and bugs disrupting Gular's concentration. A hand covered his mouth and he fought the tears welling in his eyes. It was awful.

Death was all around, everywhere. Scorched, disembodied flesh, lifeless faces of soldiers he had shared so many evening meals with, had shared so much laughter and pain with… They were all gone. Some of them were still twitching, waiting for death to release them from this torture. Worst wasn't the smell of decomposition, worst weren't the innumerable casualties. Worst was he could have prevented all this.

A single tear rolled down his face. Whether they had been his foes or friends, these soldiers hadn't deserved such a fate. The once dull russet shade of the steppe was now a sickening shade of blood and death. For the first time in his life, Gular had but one question that needed answering, and he wasn't sure he even wanted to know the answer.

"Who could have done such a thing?" he whispered, a hand still in front of his mouth.

"You did."

Startled, Gular turned.

"Trax…" He said, unshed tears still in his eyes. The loathing and pain was so imminent in his eyes, the young prince seemed void of any other emotion right now.

Trax said nothing, simply stood there, his arms folded. A hint of a smirk slid past his face though he remained silent, waiting for Gular to let his words sink in.

Gular looked at his boots, then up again. "I did what?" he asked eventually.

Trax unfolded his arms and let one drift from his chest to the side, pointing out he was talking about the camp area. "This…" he answered.

"You're a murderer, Gular. A cold-blooded murderer."

Gular breathed, and let out a shriek. "No!" he exclaimed in protest. As if lead by a force that was not his own he leapt forward, his hands enclosing Trax' neck. He pressed them together, until, driven by Gular's imminent force the black-haired man fell back, onto the cold, blood-stained soil.

"You're a liar!" Gular screamed. His hands tightened their grip, as if he was trying to squeeze out the answer he wished to hear from Trax.

Though slowly turning blue, Trax held his smirk, wringing out the words he wanted to share.

"No," he stammered, "You are."

Enraged and frustrated, young Gular pressed even harder. "Shut your mouth!"

Trax however ousted an afflicting laughter, then spoke inside Gular's head.

_:You're a murderer…:_

Surprised by hearing Trax' words in his mind, Gular let go of him, and let himself fall back on his buttocks, supporting himself with his hands.

Rather troubled, the boy looked at his black-haired opponent. "What are you talking about?"

"Look around you, Gular. Does what you see seem like something Darken would do? Would Darken kill his own people, a dying breed of warriors?"

Gular did not like what he saw. Even though he did not wish to acknowledge it, he knew Trax had a point. Darken had turned all his hatred and bile towards the Sanûmé, not the Fighters. So whatever had happened here, had certainly not been Darken's intention, whether it'd been his doing or not. He snarled.

"Where is he?" he said.

Trax suppressed a smirk. "Where's who?"

"Where's Darken, you imbecile!"

Again, Trax tried to suppress his smirk, failing this time. "Ah, so you've finally come to the conclusion you failed in killing him after all. Smart move, my boy," the man responded.

Gular rose to his feet, pulling Trax with him. "Tell me where I can find him!"

"In order for me to do that…" As he was speaking, Trax pulled himself out of Gular's grip, taking to the sky. "You'll have to catch me first!"

Gular was in fact amazed he found Trax aloft. Honestly, he thought he was the only one with such ability. Clearly, he had been mistaken. Trax vanished into the distance, and Gular prepared to go after him.

However, his attention was drawn to his side, as he felt something or someone tugging on his pants.

A young boy, hardly his age lay in a puddle of mud and blood, his bloodstained hand at Gular's heel. He was dying.

Quickly, Gular kneeled, holding one of the boy's hands in both his. The prince touched the boy's cheek in hopes of calming him down. He failed. The boy's entire body shivered with a fever that inducted Death knocking at his door.  
"Overlord..." The boy whimpered.

Gular frowned, and tried not to let his emotions carry off with him. "What about him?"

"He was so angry after you…" the teenage soldier grunted, stuttering frenziedly. "So angry..." He gasped, revealing to Gular how much pain he was actually in. "...He was beyond him… self with rage. Nothing… we could do… nothing."

Gular shook his head, trying to convince himself this could not be true.

"No," he protested, "Darken's dead. I killed him."

"He lives, Gular no Ouji." The black-haired boy gasped. "Believe me, he lives..." Only now did Gular notice the boy was crying, afraid to die.

"I'm so cold," he said.

His short hair was covered in his own blood, almost shimmering. Gular knew he had suffered a blow to the head that would ultimately be fatal, hopefully sooner than later. No one deserved to suffer like this.

"But you gave us hope, Prince Gular, you gave..." His lips started to shake, and the light in his eyes began to falter. "me..." The teenager closed his eyes, and opened them unexpectedly looking for the strength to finish his sentence.

"...hope..."

A droplet of blood dripped from his nose, stopping at his upper lip. And the last hint of light faded from his eyes. A gust of wind sent a shiver through Gular and more than before did he want to break down and cry. But more than anything else, Gular did not want to give up. Shutting the boy's eyes with his fingertips, he bit his lower lip. "Your death will not be in vain." He stood and walked away. "Be at peace," he whispered, hoping death would give the boy the peace he deserved but had failed to receive in his young life. "I know I cannot…"

Before going after Trax, Gular decided to go to Darken's tent to get the coordinates, in hopes of those still being there. He rushed in the burning barracks, noticing the place had been trashed by other causes than the ever-growing fire.

Everything was shattered into pieces and thrown across the chamber without any indication of systematisation; broken pottery, a pot of ink on the floor, paperwork and books everywhere.

Although he wasn't really sure what he was doing, he focused and visions of the past appeared to him. He saw what had happened.

_The Future… Past and… The Now. All Intertwined. Whole and scattered, and Upside Down…_

This must be what the Dragons had been talking about! Time wasn't real, time wasn't absolute!

_You Can see. You Will see…_

Apparently, he could see powerful events of the past, now and future, even if he hadn't been there to witness the actual occurrence. This must have been one of the gifts – or curses – the Dragons in his vision had been talking about and handed to him during one of his recent visions, for reasons he would never understand. Were they actually trying to help him?

He saw. He saw because he believed, because he understood now.

Trax had done this. He had destroyed everything useful to Gular and the Healers.  
And Gular saw clearly Trax had taken the coordinates with him. So, he had the one thing Gular needed!

Unfortunately, this was not all Gular was shown. He was what had happened here earlier. How he turned into Ryoku Gular, and destroyed everything within sight. That which was left was then swept into oblivion and fire by the Overlord, whilst his Southern Councillor, Trax – Gular soon found out – was waiting for him to calm down again. Trax had been right. Gular was as much to blame for this as Darken was. Trax was right…

But Trax had been a traitor as well. Gular had seen it. Gular had seen everything. Darken was not who he claimed to be.

Running out of the pavilion, the young prince flew up high, soaring far above clouds and the soil below, and headed straight after his enemy.

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The interior of the spaceship was modest. The ship itself was however huge, in terms of even the Changeling, in terms of even King Cold.

But there wasn't any use in flattering Lord Furiiza with any sugar-coated ornaments cluttering up such a highly efficient, space-traveling metropolis hovering just outside Vejiita-sei's sphere. The ship's walls were dark, as Furiiza enjoyed the contrast it gave to his beautiful fair skin.

However pleased about the spaceship's efficiency and unification – and its calm interior – Furiiza was not very pleased at this moment.

"But Lord Furiiza," Zarbon protested, "You cannot do this to me!"

"Zarbon," Furiiza answered, not really paying much attention to his subordinate's snivelling, "I'm Furiiza, I can do whatever I want." He snickered disdainfully, enjoying his sudden contemplation on how powerful he really was. He enjoyed being able to do whatever he wanted. On the other hand, protesting subordinates, especially officers such as Zarbon, annoyed him tremendously.

Furiiza was known for his explosive, easy-to-anger nature. On various occasions he had blown people's heads off for wasting his time. Protests and complaints were definitely a waste of Furiiza's precious time.

"I'm not a babysitter!" Zarbon exclaimed. The frustration in his voice was rather amusing hadn't Furiiza's time been terribly scarce right now. King Cold's eldest son wasn't able to find any humour in Zarbon's snivelling, although at times some laughter did escape him.

"You are now, Zarbon. Tend to the boy. Train him. Make him the perfect war machine. I'd like to keep at least one Saiyajin for my personal zoo. For it is only a matter of time before I shall dispose myself of those foul, loudmouthed monkeys for good… They are getting on my nerves."

He laughed, rather loudly. The obese, ugly officer standing to his left laughed with him, bearing his sharp, rotting teeth.

Suddenly Furiiza held his tongue, and glared at the ugly man with his thorny, pink skin, and rotting teeth. "Shut up, Dodoria!" he carped. "Or I'll have an even more humiliating job for you." He turned towards Zarbon again, further ignoring Dodoria. "Where is the Saiyajin Prince anyway?"

"Out cold back at the Saiyajin palace," Zarbon replied, "I left him in his room to contemplate on his combat slip-ups during our training. That is, if he's woken up by now. I gave him a good beating." He snickered, only enjoying himself because Vejiita was Saiyajin, and not just any Saiyajin but the Saiyajin Prince. Humiliating the Saiyajin no Ouji was at least tempting and amusing for a little while.

"Very well," said Furiiza. "Fetch him. I need a little word with our little prince."

"Right away, Lord Furiiza." Zarbon made a small, somewhat girly curtsy before his master, saluted him and left the throne room to get Vejiita and bring the child before his Lord.

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Letting out whatever speed was in him, Gular shot through the sky which first sun had already begun setting. In the distance his target was waiting for him. It was very likely Trax had been waiting for him since he had left, choosing the place he was now very carefully. The Iceplains of Eternal Frost in the Northern Highlands, the energy's source was waiting for him there. Trax was waiting for him.

The arctic wind lashed in his face, burning his cheeks.

Most Chikurajin avoided this part of their world. Though after having adjusted to the cold, Chikurajin were usually quite capable of living in such sub-zero conditions truth remained most didn't quite enjoy it.

Approximately six hundred years ago, a small settlement had resided in these parts to prepare for a colonization of a distant border-dimensional planet called Arnax. It took them fourteen years before they had adapted to the harsh weather conditions, and surviving with so little resources available. After having prepared to permanently settle on Arnax for research – and safety – purposes they set out with one of the last spacecrafts available before the monarchy confiscated them all and prohibited colonization and otherworldly exploration.

When the settlers had just arrived in Arnax contact for inexplicable reasons was permanently lost. The homebound Chikurajin never heard from them again, not even telepathically. It was as if they had vanished without a trace. None of the Chikura to this day know if anyone of them is still alive. Considered the time-span they'd probably be dead by now, if they hadn't died shortly after losing contact. But maybe, just maybe there are still some of them alive out there, or their offspring, protecting the initial reason of the colonization.

They had been chosen very carefully. They had been chosen to take the Eye of Wisdom from us because Her Knowledge was being abused for personal gain. For our own, and the Eye's sake, she was taken from this world. The Lost Colony of Arnax, that's what Gular thought of upon seeing such an icy plain. Arnax was a world covered in snow and ice, a world existing now only in myths and legends. But he was sure some truth remained in this legend. Hadn't the Power of Dragons and Ryoku also been just bedtime stories?

Suddenly appearing behind him, Gular turned to watch whatever Trax was up to now.

Trax stood on the icy plateau beneath. He waved at Gular contemptuously. Gular landed, his brow knit.

"My my, look whom I bump into..." The sarcasm was clearly readable in Trax' snappy voice. "My old sparring pal! Must say it's been a while, hasn't it, Gular?"

"It can never be too long, if you'd ask me." The anger burning inside of Gular was obvious. As far as he knew there wasn't anyone on this planet with the ability to alter their flow of energy in such manner as to elevate themselves, let alone fly. No one could fly, except winged creatures such as Dragons, or beings from myths and legends, aliens maybe but Chikurajin hadn't even mentioned the gift of flight in their mortal status once. Chikurajin couldn't fly, period. So why did Trax have such an ability?

Was he an alien? Very unlikely.

Was he one of the Immortal? One of the Dragon's Elder? Impossible!

"Well, aren't you in a cheery mood," Trax sneered. "Why the long face? And why be so bothered by the fact I can fly? You didn't think you were the only one, now did you?"

Gular awarded his opponent with a fierce glare, not understanding a word the man was saying. "What do you mean 'the only one'?"

Trax laughed. "I am old, Gular. Way older than you can ever imagine."

Frowning, Gular had a hard time keeping up his guard. The way Trax was speaking in riddles made him nervous. What was he saying?

"What are you talking about!"

"I am saying, young prince," the black-haired man snarled, "I above all have the right to be Murass' Heir, not you! You do not have the right to be a Dragon, Gular. You do not have the right! I lived in a time when your great ancestors, the Gods Therin and Rhym still roamed the Dimensions as one of us. I lived in a time when we were one of them. A time when we were Immortal, and Murass' beloved!"

Gular's jaw dropped. "You're one of the Elder!"

"That's right, boy. I'm one of the Dragon's Elder."

For a brief moment Gular wanted to laugh out loud. Unfortunately, the stern look upon Trax' face worried him too much right now. Was he serious? Was he really serious!

"You're insane."

"Is that so?"

Wind caught up, and snow begun to fall, carrying off Trax' words into the cold horizon. Something lay imminent in the sky, though Gular could not determine what it was. Was Trax telling the truth? If he was, he looked a lot younger than Gular would have expected of an Elder.

Therin and Rhym were sealed within the Dragon Balls almost eight hundred years ago. If Trax had known Therin and Rhym before they became Wish Dragons he must've been at the very least about twelve hundred years old! No Chikurajin was granted the presence of an Eternal Guardian before the mature age of four hundred and fifty years, no exceptions made.

Nearly a millennium in the past a war was conjured up. Initiated by the Super Saiyajin, havoc was spread across the entire length of the Outer Dimension, the World of Mortals.

What the Super Saiyajin had not foreseen was the inconceivable might of the Guardians. Therin, Rhym, Alana and Ganda, even without the help of Zormit who until the Real consumed his purity had been Guardian of the South.

Zormit finally showed his true, ill-willing nature on the highlight of the Great War, coming to the Super Saiyajin's aid.

He had sold his son's soul to the Hakaisha, the Destroyer.

The Hakaisha consumed Zormit's son, until there was but a ghost left of the boys once so promising self. Shaellar was gone. The Hakaisha had taken his place, and although somehow still bound to his family, all he wished for was utter destruction, wanting nothing more than to start with those he hated most of all: the Guardians.

Gular gasped. Zormit had fathered three sons. The eldest was Brolak, Gular knew. Zormit's second boy was Shaellar, who came into the Destroyer's clutches. Hadn't his youngest carried a name somewhat similar to Dras or Trax…?

Gular wondered, consumed by his own thoughts.

"You may call me insane, which does question your intellect," said Trax eventually. "But you know your legends. Zormit indeed had three sons. And his youngest was in fact named Trax." He paused for a while, making sure Gular was listening to his every word. "I am that son. And if you're smart enough, you will realize the significance of all this."

Overwhelmed by the man's sudden words, Gular lost his focus. He was reading his thoughts! He took a step backwards, feeling rather awkward. Did this explain why Darken was able to attain Taihen no Ryuu? Was he an Elder as well?

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Spring really pressured her friendship with the Briefs Family. But then, no one really blamed her. She had lost two of her siblings, and both her parents.

She insisted the conditions of Fall and Winter's disappearance were connected to the vanishing of a lot of women all over the world the same day they had left.

Spring was convinced there had been a purpose for abducting all those women, and she believed Fall had gone after his sister to try getting her back.

It was all rather farfetched, Mrs. Briefs thought but for some odd reason her husband believed her friend.

Women vanished under strange circumstances a couple of times a year, and most simply evaporated, never to be found again. But the level of detail and obscurity of Spring Secchukawaa's assumption was more than just a coincidence. But to call it an alien abduction sounded a bit absurd to Mrs. Briefs.

She could still hear Spring's voice in her head, trying to convince her. "Bunny-san," she'd said, "I even dream of outer-space. And I can almost see the brutes that took her from me. I know Fall is with her, to protect her from whatever evil they're facing… but I'm so scared, Bunny, so scared!"

Perhaps her husband had simply been touched by Spring's words, perhaps he really wanted to help. Maybe he was just a little insane. You really had to be insane to be building a genuine spaceship. For that was what Dr. Briefs was doing: he was building a spaceship to get Fall and Winter back. Working day and night, she and their tot infant hardly got to see him except maybe during dinner.

But why in the world did Dr. Briefs believe such ludicrous abduction theory with all his heart?

Sipping from her tea, and watching how her husband's cup remained untouched as he was still in the far end of the company working on the spaceship every chance of spare time he got, Bunny Briefs wondered what was going on in her husband's mind.

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Trax laughed. He found Gular's puzzlement rather entertaining.

Gular's mind was still working overtime, trying to process his thoughts, and Trax' words. Trax looked so young, too young to be an Elder.

Not even the eldest known inhabitant of Chikura-sei who was still alive was older than two, maybe three hundred years total, and those Chikurajin looked their age, with every wrinkle and line carved in their barely living flesh.

Chikurajin were mortal. Less than a thousand years ago each and every one of them had been immortal, causing for their birth as well as death rate to be very low. Now, Chikurajin gave birth at a young age, and died hardly beyond the age of one-hundred-and-fifty.

Besides, even if Trax had survived the Touch of Mortality their Great Lord Murass had sent upon his kin nearly eight hundred years ago, and sealing Therin and Rhym – and quite possibly himself as well – by Dragon Balls, someone must have found out about the man's old age sometime!

To Gular, that sounded plausible. If he was immortal, he could look as young as someone in his early twenties, given that he was not as old as Therin or Rhym were when they were sealed. But immortal or not, he could not perform miracles and hide the fact he never grew old. But then, Chikura-sei was a big planet, one of the bigger in this part of the universe. Plus, he didn't seem to have any friends or close relations with anyone.

Trax sighed, loudly. "For the Devil's sake boy," he sneered, "Stop thinking so much. You'll give the both of us a headache if you don't knock it off!"

Gular looked at him. He wasn't sure he should be gracious to him, supposing such long life had made Trax this bitter. And although Trax was an Elder, it didn't necessarily mean he was very wise. The Chikurajin prestige and wisdom had been waning ever since the Destroyer had awoken in the Real and begun wreaking death and destruction ubiquitously within his reach. Why otherwise would Trax be on Darken's evil side, unless…

"Right, I've had it with you, kid!" said Trax. "In thought or not, you're beginning to insult ánd irritate me. You already found out I'm one of Zormit's boys. Is it really that hard to understand Darken is my brother, Shaellar?"

Gular widened his eyes. How stupid of him to have not noticed! Darken… His name was a Chikurajin word; and not just any word in their age-old language. Shaellar was given this nickname by the great Rhym himself. Mystery was what they called him, or Darken. It was the name given to him shortly after the boy had lost his soul to the Thief of Souls, the Hakaisha.

The Overlord was Shaellar. The Overlord was the Hakaisha, the Destroyer.

He gasped. At the pit of his stomach a spur of rash fear had begun spreading across his body, which was rapidly growing limp with panic.

He shook his head, called back to reason by Trax' ever-growing smirk.

Making a double kata in mid-air, Trax shot forward all of the sudden, wielding his fists at Gular's face. Instinctively, Gular bent his knees as his enemy passed over him, barely touching. He turned quickly, preparing for another assault from the black haired man.

None came, for Trax simply waited.

"Why are you on Darken's side?" Gular asked, his voice plain and cold.

Trax rubbed his eye, bending his head a little.

"You see… the answer isn't nearly as simple as you might expect," he spoke.

Gular pressed his lips together, his eyes carefully watching the enemy's every move.

"Would you care to explain?" the young prince asked.

"Not really." Trax shrugged meaninglessly. He shuffled his feet a bit, and wondered what was keeping the prince from launching an all-out attack on him.

"I'll consider answering your question," Trax suddenly added, "After you tell me why you really – and I mean _really_ – came after me. Can't be just because you felt hurt by what I'd said to you. I'm no fool, Gular. You came after me for one, explicit purpose, and it wasn't to try and whoop my ass."

"I want the chart of coordinates," Gular answered, unsmiling.

"I bet you do. But I'm not giving it to you." Trax laughed, mordantly. "Too bad, huh?"

Angered by his opponent's mocking, Gular gathered his energy, focusing it into one powerful centre. Barely aloft, the young prince spurred his ki, and he shot forward.

Driving an unyielding fist into Trax' stomach, and another at the man's cheek, he turned and kicked him whilst spinning on his heel.

Trax fell flat on his back. When he opened his eyes, he wiped away some of the blood on his chin. He smiled.

"That's a decent punch you got there, Gular!" he said.

He sat up. "Still, I'm not giving you the map."

Goaded, Gular glared at him. He kicked him in his face, and landed his boot at his collarbones. "For an Elder," he started rather furiously, only to mellow down a bit later. "You're not only stupid but selfish also! Why are you doing this! Why are you and Darken so set on destroying our world? What have we ever done to you? You're a Dragon; you're supposed to be one of us, Trax!"

His dark eyes looked up at Gular. His expression was solemn, calm almost. He lay there, immobile, with Gular's strapped boot at the pit of his neck.

"You never saw us they way we once were, young prince. You may have heard the stories, but you can never imagine Our World as it once was, before we were banished to this hell-hole! Us Dragons were a proud, gallivanting people, Gular. We loved to go from place to place, and see things. We were not as naïve and isolated as our so-called Great Lord Murass. We knew what went on in the world, though we were mostly there to just keep a bit of order all over…" He paused for a moment, contemplating on a proper choice of words, as if what he was trying to say actually meant something to him.

"But my father was a bitter old man. He was jealous, Gular, jealous and greedy. Jealousy is an ominous monster that gobbles down the heart of anyone on whose shoulder it resides. It consumed my father, and my eldest brother, Brolak. But it did not consume Shaellar and me. Nevertheless, my father's jealousy became our downfall. It destroyed my brother, and it destroyed us Dragons. In the end it will mean the death of us all. But Destroyer or not, the Overlord really wants us to be great again. He really wants us to pull through. Perhaps it's because Shaellar is still in there, somehow. Perhaps it's because the Destroyer wishes to see Murass' demise at the hands of His Own People. It doesn't really matter to me anymore."

His words suddenly died down into a whisper, and he grabbed Gular's foot. "But you will not stop us. You will not. I would die before I'd let you!"

The sky was restless with clouds rolling over and under each other, twisting themselves into one another. Not a sound was to be heard, not even the wind was audible by those keen for it. Just then did Trax begin laughing, splitting his ends with laughing and he mustered whatever power was within his reach.

Gular tried desperately to move out of Trax' hold but he could not.

Meeting with the gaze of a person gone mad, Gular finally realized what his opponent was doing. Trying desperately to shield himself from the immense blaze of power Trax unleashed, he blacked out, and forgot about the world around him.

Everything disappeared, first the noise vanished, and all Gular saw was Trax' laughing face, laughing without a sound. He didn't remember what happened next, except that time seemed to stand still, flashing on and off like a firefly dancing in his head, wanting to get out.

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Author's Note: On to part three! Yes, yes, I know I'm lame. I hope I haven't left any holes. It's hard to create a division between truth and perception.

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	19. Tale 16 Between the Wars 3

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Sixteen ---Between The Wars Part Three---**  
Rating: M**

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Author's Note: This is the first note that is set prior to an episode. Do not skip it or look it over indistinctly: read it!

The reasons are as following: this chapter contains graphic scenes of violence and mature issues. The nature of some of these scenes is rather adult and I fear receiving complaints from some of my younger readers if I do not warn them beforehand. Don't worry about any lemons or grapefruits right now, though some citrus fruits might pass some time during this episode.

I do not intend to scare you away; I simply feel it's necessary to warn you. Questions can simply be addressed to me through e-mail or any other message service.

Prior to each M rated chapter there will be warnings as followed:

M Rating Caution: graphic violent scenes/indication of abuse (or any other type of warning relevant to the given episode).

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The tavern was an isolated one, positioned at the end of a planetary replenishing station, near a tarnished old bridge.

There, missing or broken parts of a spaceship were usually replaced, and especially long-term travellers stopped by to either contact the families they had left behind, or to find some pleasurable company.

The purple neons flickered on and off, and both R's in its name were out of order, now spelling BIDGE BA instead of BRIDGE BAR. The bar was nicknamed Bitch Bah, for obviously lame reasons. But then, the prostitutes and erotic dancers of this bar were notorious for their sickness and perversion.

The inside was if possible even more depressing than its gloomy and drizzling outside.

The walls were smeared in old paint, blood, nicotine and tar stains, as well as bullet holes. Sparse furniture was old, and lost most of its initial ordinary wooden look, now blending in rather naturally with the bar's lifeless picture.

A small group of Changeling officers, wearing Saiyajin army uniforms, sat by the far end of the bar – close to the barrels of liquor – drinking and arguing boisterously.

"Oh, come on!" Zarbon sneered, feeling very sorry for himself. He grabbed the bottle of whisky standing behind the bar, chopped off the top by smashing it against the bar's corner and wolfed down whatever was left inside – or at least a good deal of it.

The fellow officers, including a nameless, one-eyed Allurian traitor, some fish-face named Kewie, that ugly pink lump Dodoria, and a young, aspiring lieutenant called Jisuu whose skin was orange, and hair pale as Chikyuu snow, laughed at Zarbon's display of self-pity. Zarbon liked Jisuu, as his need to look good was at least as great as his own. But Zarbon was in a bad mood tonight, a really, really bad mood.

"What fun is there in beating up some kid!" Zarbon complained furthermore.

Jisuu shrugged, at least he and Zarbon seemed to have that much in common. He watched Zarbon carefully, and he shook his head disapprovingly as the jade skinned man gobbled down another mouthful of whisky.

"I expect you'll pay for that," commented the bartender suddenly. He approached calmly, wiping a pint goblet with a tattered old cloth. Smoke curled from his cigar, and twisted into odd shapes before evaporating into nothing except maybe the lingering smell of putrid leaves.

"Mind your own business," Zarbon snorted irritably.

Dodoria laughed. He hardly got to see Zarbon like this, as the latter usually was quite well-behaved and gracious. Things changed during the rare moments he was in a foul mood or would not get his way with Lord Furiiza. This was such a moment.

"It is my damn business once you step into _my_ watering hole and snatch booze from behind _my_ registry. Liquor ain't for free here, entertainment is. It says so on the sign near the door, moron." The bold man glared at Zarbon, his pointy ears flat to sides of his face.

Kewie and the Allurian officer looked behind them, to see if the sign was really there.

_Liquour ain't for free here, entertainment is_, the sign by the door said. _Sounds fair enough_, thought Kewie.

The somewhat overweight barman snarled, biting on the end of his cigar to look intimidating. With a loud thud, he set the goblet he'd been holding on the registry and tossed the tattered cloth with its faded red squares to the side aimlessly. Reaching out one hand, and holding his cigar in the other, he gestured Zarbon to cough up the money he owed. "I'm waiting."

Kewie snickered. "So am I," he said. He knew of Zarbon's reputation. He knew anyone mocking Zarbon would at the very least lose a limb or two. The bartender barely glanced at Kewie, ignoring his words, probably because he had no idea of any reputation whatsoever.

"Well," whispered Zarbon menacingly, "I guess I should explain a thing or two to you, good man." He signalled the guy to lean in closer.

The man bent over a little, and rested on both elbows as he neared the jade skinned officer. "If you don't have any money," he sneered, "I might have you work to even out what you still owe me. You're at least pretty enough to be a half decent gigolo." He laughed. "Mhh? What do you say?" He brushed his fingertips through Zarbon's silky hair, deriding Furiiza's officer openly. Apparently, Furiiza's reputation, nor those of his officers had reached these remote outskirts of the Western Universe yet.

"I say…" began Zarbon, as he grabbed the old pervert by his collar and tossed him over his shoulder, across the tavern. Landing on the sign near the door, and slamming into a wall, the man slipped in and out of consciousness, nodding as if falling to sleep slowly.

Painstakingly calm, Zarbon got up, turned, and walked up to the bartender elegantly. His expression was plain, void of resentment or satisfaction. Standing over the man Zarbon looked down to him, shaking his head disapprovingly. When the man looked up, Zarbon lashed out, slashing the barman's throat in one swift motion. Whilst his decapitated body sank to the cold floor, his head was tossed to the ceiling by the sudden force of Zarbon's assault, only to come down again in a small curve, slamming to the floor, and rolling down to Dodoria's feet.

"I say we're even," Zarbon said, finishing his sentence.

Dodoria laughed. He had only been witness to one previous outburst of Zarbon's. Just about two years ago Zarbon had ripped one of his sergeants' chest open and had torn out his heart. Zarbon had later explained his actions to Furiiza on the account the soldier in fact lacked heart in general.

Dodoria picked up the bartender's head, whose face was perpetually engraved with a terrified expression, almost as if he'd been frozen permanently. Dusting off one side of the man's face, that'd been splattered in blood, he set him down on the bar.

"Sorry, my good man," he said deridingly. "I'll have another pint!"

Even Jisuu laughed at that. But as soon as Zarbon took up his old seat again, and poured a glass of what was left from inside the broken whisky bottle, all fell silent again.

Well, at least now each of them knew not to ridicule Zarbon for his fashion sense and unusual, almost feminine looks.

Zarbon reached out his hand to the bartender's lifeless head, and put the cigar he had just picked up from the floor in the man's dead mouth.

"There," he said, "Much better."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

He moved his brow, frowning. Although he kept his eyes shut firmly, he was pretty aware of his surroundings. A source of gleaming warmth sparked to his left. He thought it might be a fire, or a couple of candles judging from the smell. As far as he could tell, his sister was keeping his face cool by stroking his forehead and cheeks with a damp cloth. He felt how cold droplets of water trickled down his neck, from the other cloth placed just under his chin. He murmured softly in protest, trying hard to open his eyes.

He knew Uyra was talking to him, possibly to try and soothe him. Fighting his protesting body, Gular opened his eyes, and looked at his sister.

"How are you feeling?" the girl asked.

Gular groaned as he sat up, rubbing his brow. "Like a landslide ran over my head." He grunted. He took the cloth from his neck, and put it aside. He then looked at his sister. She was rather distant, he felt. The young prince thought she might be angry with him for almost dying on her. At least, that was what had happened, right?

"What happened?"

Uyra rolled her eyes. "Figures you wouldn't remember. For your information, you almost got yourself killed. In fact, if I hadn't been for Cyane, you wouldn't be here right now. She found you, healed you at the best of her ability, and nursed you back to whatever shape you're in now. I had hardly a thing to do with it. So in case you were considerate enough to be willing to thank anyone, you should thank her," his sister explained. She didn't really sound irritated, or angry, but there was in fact a hint of frustration in her voice. Gular didn't understand but felt it'd be in his best interest to keep quiet. He solemnly nodded.

Slipping out of bed, he ignored his sister's remarks to take things slow. He hadn't time to take things slow! Who knew how long he'd been unconscious!

A minute sheath of snow lay over the outside world, almost like a sugar cover. Trees and most bushes stood in lifeless contrast to the calming snowy layer decorating the moribund world with a hint of vitality. It was freezing, and not just a little.

The girl standing silently by the lake didn't seem bothered by the slivering cold. Her pale hair moved wildly onto the frost winds, and her long dress danced back and forth irregularly.

"Thank you," he said after he'd approached her. She glanced at him.

"What for?"

"Saving my life," Gular replied.

He did mean what he'd said, even though the words came out a bit stiffly and sounded rather awkward to him.

Well, it's not like someone saves your life every day. Unless you're a moron with one heck of a great guardian angel. Gular shrugged off his thoughts. He shouldn't try to be funny in a situation like this. It wasn't the time, nor place.

She was blushing, though he didn't immediately understand why. But he knew. He knew from the beginning she admired him. To Gular, there wasn't much to admire about himself but what did he know? He avoided girls, never had any long-term interaction with them save perhaps his sister. Was there something more to it? Although he felt stupid thinking it, maybe Cyane did have a little crush on him. Maybe his sister had been right all those times she'd told him girls at the local village kept asking her who he was for the simple reason they found him attractive.

Gular had never really understood the concept of beauty, especially with men. A man was considered handsome at some point. But which criteria were there? Was it similar to what men found attractive to women? Or was it… different?

He was probably just imagining Cyane's affections. She had saved him, true. She had nursed him. But she probably had just done it because it was her job. She was a Healer. It was her job to heal people.

But why was she blushing?

Why not ask, stupid?

"Why are you blushing?"

Cyane laughed nervously. "I feel stupid for telling you, Gular. But if you really wanted to you could've just read my mind and found out…" She trailed off.

Gular licked his lips, as they were getting dry by the harsh weather conditions. He felt rather uneasy standing there. Inside was warm, and not nearly as thrashing. "Maybe it's best if we go inside," he propositioned, interrupting the girl.

"Maybe," she said, suddenly sounding a lot calmer than before. "The thing is…"

She looked at him, her pale eyes glistening with unshed tears, probably due to the menacing wind causing even the trees to move back and forth like small twigs. Her cheeks flushed, and Gular noticed tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose and her cheekbones. She was in fact beautiful, in a somewhat unconventional way. At least, she wasn't beautiful like Gular's sister was. Uyra was a striking woman, with big, bright eyes, full, womanly shaped lips, and a long, narrow nose. Cyane's nose was smaller, and curved up in a childlike manner. Her nose wrinkled in such a cute way, on rare occasions Gular had caught her smiling.

"I think I might have a little crush on you, Gular. It's rather embarrassing, really."

As if woken up by a sledge hammer lashing onto his big toe, Gular gaped at Cyane.

"Huh?" he stammered.

The girl looked away, blushing. Gular could pick up the flow of regret bursting through her thoughts, and he mentally kicked himself for responding like a preteen ignoramus.

It might be even more foolish, it might even ruin everything for him, but in a flash of an impulse, Gular forced her to look at him and kissed her.

Things forever changed then and there.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Zarbon left soon after the showgirls stepped from behind the curtains onto the stage. Although he could appreciate the beauty of a decent ballet or opera, there wasn't much elegance or splendour to Zarbon in an ordinary peep show.

The girls could dance, that much was for sure, as they showed from their synchronized movement on stage and with one another. Zarbon stood, saluted his fellow officers, and left without much further ado.

Stripteases and peep shows just weren't his thing.

The girls were of a particularly varied range of breeds. Four of them were natives, a pair of two was of Allurian heritage, and possibly hybrided. There was also a feline girl, commonly called Nekojin, and finally an Ausarian maiden with six breasts.

Though moving gracefully, the catgirl was obviously new here as she hadn't had time to learn the proper dance moves, and she obviously lacked motivation in shedding her already very scarce clothing.

Dodoria obviously liked her. But then, most Crothian filths did. Most girls hadn't a problem taking off their clothes, and even if they did, they hid it well.

"Come on!" Dodoria shouted, "Don't be shy!" Intently or not, the ugly pink Crothian spit drivel from his fetid mouth.

"Calm down, Dodoria," said Jisuu. "I'm sure the lady will show what she's made of soon enough."

Kewie leaned in closer, resting his armpits on both one of Dodoria's as well as Jisuu's shoulders. Both officers pushed the fishface off of them irritably.

"I'm done waiting," complained Dodoria. He reached out his arm and grabbed the girl by her feline tail. She yelped in both fear and rage.

Dodoria dragged her onto his lap and tore off her bra in one fierce yank. Putting his grubby hands on her she screamed. But when his other hand slipped down to her panties she did more than just scream. Jerking out her sharp nails, she clawed open his face, nearly tearing out his eye. Whilst Dodoria fell backwards shrieking, the girl ran out the door, the Gods knew where.

"After her!" Dodoria screamed, still covering his face. Jisuu and Kewie, even the Allurian, laughed with tears. Dodoria could be so stupid sometimes.

_Serves you right, you disrespecting tub of lard_, thought Jisuu. He smirked, still laughing loudly.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

A total of two years passed. And even though Gular had tried numerous times in tracking down the Overlord, each time he ended up without even the slightest clue on the man's whereabouts. The prince realized Darken didn't want to be found, and would only reveal himself to him once he decided to. Of course that was rather unfair, and it didn't add much to the frail sense of security the Chikurajin had.

It almost seemed people were picking up their normal lives again. Even Gular's sister. But Gular knew it was only a façade. Darken was still out there, although he hadn't a clue where.

For the sake of his family and friends, Gular had tried to pick up a relatively normal existence as well. He had even married his Cyane according to traditional Ryuu no Chikara values. Eternity seemed like a long time to him, and therefore he had kept his doubts for a very long while. He knew he wouldn't be able to give Cyane an eternity, even if he wanted to. And according to ancient tradition marriage was a once only commitment. If one of them would come to perish there wouldn't be a thing such as re-marriage. But Gular knew how badly Cyane had wanted to wed him. She knew the consequences of a premature death. She knew if one of them would die they'd be left behind, and she seemed at peace with that. Maybe she knew more than he did. Maybe eternity really would be an eternity, regardless of one of them dying or not.

Though both of them were still very young, they didn't know how much time they had left with each other. Cyane was pregnant with his child. It'd still take at least seven Chikura months before the child would be there but Gular already looked after his wife as if he were a watchdog.

The sun shone boldly. The lazy late afternoon was calm, and thick with warmth. Resources were plentiful, even for the time of year. And for the first time since years local villagers seemed happy. Was this a sign of recovery? Or was it only the temporary recuperation before the major relapse?

Gular knew the answer. He had accepted it long ago. His sister sat next to him, enjoying the soothing warmth of both suns. She polished her sword, sighing.

"It has been awfully quiet concerning Darken lately," she said.

The young prince knew what she was really saying. No one had heard a single word from Darken himself since years. But most of them had been reminded of the Overlord's survival by Gular, who'd been searching for the culprit up to a few weeks ago.

It had been up to a few weeks ago when Cyane had told him of her expectancy. He was going to be a father, and to be a good father he needed to push away his lasting frustration considered Darken.

Stroking Cyane's jaw-line, Gular tried not to be bothered by things that'd been imminent since the very first vision he'd had about two and a half years ago. He knew his time with Cyane was running out, and since today's early morning he'd known it'd be over soon, sooner than he would have wanted things to end. He was never going to see his unborn child, never going to hold it in his arms. He wouldn't be granted such luxury.

"Gular, I'm serious. I know he's still out there. I know you were right all along. The flow of power surging through the air from the West, I fear it's…"

Gular interrupted his sister before she could finish her sentence.

"Darken," he said. Gular didn't take his eyes and hands away from Cyane, and pecked the girl on her cheek lovingly. "I'll go after him tonight."

Cyane knew what this meant. She and Gular had discussed the possibilities over and over. She knew he'd be the only one able to stop him; if there'd ever be anyone strong enough to put a halt to the Overlord. Cyane also knew what this meant in more serious terms. She knew it'd most likely be the end of Gular. But more important, Gular might be able to take the Overlord with him.

Such hope was more than Cyane needed. Their unborn child, growing up in a world liberated from war and a malignant man's yoke; wasn't that worth fighting for? Wasn't that worth dying for?

Cyane certainly thought so, and so did Gular.

Uyra however didn't seem to agree.

For, determined as the young prince and his wife might be, no matter how hard they'd try to keep Uyra from holding her ground, both would fail. As, no matter what Gular told his sister, he couldn't help but feel it wasn't going to change much for the both of them. Perhaps what he'd told Cyane had been a lie, or the remains of an illusion. Perhaps he had once really believed. But that must've been long ago. How else could he have ever accepted not being able to grow old with Cyane, and the children they had planned on having?

Through the gentlest changes, a soothing rain began to fall from the skies, and a supple wind caught up, rustling through leaves of tree and bush.

It foreboded what was to come. Gular wouldn't run away this time. Although this time he had every reason to run away and hide, he wasn't going to. The honour of Dragons was at stake, the future of Chikurajin was.

The red haired Prince remained mute, never lingering on a single thought for too long, wanting to remain focused and undaunted; knowing he would never be able to.

Night fell, in mind's eye it seemed quicker than Gular would have thought. It was time for him to say his goodbyes, forever.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Gular travelled lightly. There was no need for him to take a lot of useless junk with him. He wasn't going back anyway. All he needed were his trusted sword, and the musing dragon inside of him on this one-way journey.

He didn't feel heavily burdened by his task as Chikura-sei's safe-keeper. He had chosen to take on this challenge, and nobody had forced him to take responsibility. Sure, he'd been given a shove in the right direction but that changed hardly a thing.

He was the only one able to call upon the actual power of the ancient dragons. He was the only one standing between Darken and all out downfall of his people.

The young man focused, concentrating on the flow of power he had felt almost a day before. With his sword strapped tightly onto his back, he clenched his fists in front of him and knit his brow in determination, letting clouds and wafts of air rage past him rapidly.

Although he didn't know yet where exactly to look, he estimated the energy had its origin somewhere near T'ux Macúrr, east to the old palace of Ryuuguu, near the woodlands of Gûrr where Gular had grown up during the first few of his childhood years.

Pressing his lips together, he tried not to be distracted. For Gular knew this wasn't going to be an easy fight; it was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done in his entire life.

What he was forced to do was something done for the greater good of things. He wasn't doing this for himself; he was doing this for everyone but him.

One could argue why Gular had made this decision. Perhaps one could make an assumption upon estimating he'd done this for multiple reasons. The Dragon Lords had asked him to, as they had chosen him as their medium in between this world and the other. Cyane, and their uborn child had asked him to, for they were in need of his protection. He had sworn to his father to protect their people, and to protect Uyra. He had sworn to himself never to let anyone get away with such atrocity.

Did this make Gular into a hero? Hardly, though some of you might argue.

His eyes lit up, literally, reflecting the pale moonlight casting its light into the pitch black night. Night vision was an ancient trait Chikurajin had inherited from their ancestors, as dragons had always had the capability of scanning darkness with but a hint of starlight.

Barren, shattered worlds passed from under him, and the scarcer life got the closer he got to his lifelong enemy.

Poking at a fading campfire, Darken sat in the midst of a desert field, atop the trunk of a dead tree. And although he tried pushing away the thought, Gular still thought Darken wanted to be found, up for any possible confrontation. Therefore, the Prince made no effort in trying to sneak up on his nemesis.

Without turning to look the boy in the eye, Darken commented on his arrival.

"I've been expecting you," he said humourlessly.

For the first time in his life, Gular was safe to say he was actually afraid of his opponent, even though he had no idea why. There was some sort of power radiating in his voice, an indication of impending doom, of Reality's downfall, absorbed by the madness of things beyond imagination.

"Leave, Darken. Leave now, and never return. I do not want to kill you." he spoke, attempting to hold his ground.

Darken faced him, the Overlord's eyes revealing an unfamiliar glow, unnatural and dark. Startled, Gular backed down a bit. He definitely did not like the feeling of this.

"So you do not want to kill me…" he repeated, belittling, a crooked smirk planted almost permanently upon his cheeks. "How noble…"

Darken stood, casting upon Gular an intimidating cloak of authority and arrogance. "Is it to keep your own heart free from corruption? Or does the mere thought of _Destroyer_ send fright and weakness through your worn out soul?" He sneered, pausing for a brief moment. "Kill me, young Prince, kill me now or you'll be forced to witness the downfall of everything you hold dear."

Finally, Darken's eyes fixed on Gular's, sending a rush of adrenaline through the youth. He feared him alright, but he wasn't going to back down. He wasn't going to let this malignant foe get to him like he did the last time.

Gular bared his teeth, holding on to his resolution. As Gular spoke, his eyes burned into Darken's, addressing him a fierce glare. "No Darken," he said, "Things will end. They will end _now_."

Darken grimaced, and laughed.

Gular clenched his fists, and crouched in an offensive stance. "Just you wait."

"Enough," said Darken, and he took off his cape, tossing it onto the ground with a cocky smirk streaking across his cheeks, his agitation flaring.

In response, Gular grabbed his sword. Darken laughed once again. And instead of letting the boy tire himself against an unarmed, allpowerfull opponent, the Overlord grabbed his own sword, and let the boy attack.

Sequences and motions followed, combining speed and elegance without question. The sound of colliding blades reverberated in the vast outskirts of the valley, shattering the outside world.

The determination was set in her mind permanently. Young Uyra would not let Gular take on the enemy by himself. Dashing as quickly as she could, she avoided mountain range, and she felt the presence of Gular grow stronger and stronger.

"Yield to me, Prince," Darken said without any emotion other than disdain. "Give in. No one can surpass me." Blocking the blow Gular attempted to throw, Darken sneered. "Pledge your loyalty, and I'll consider letting you live."

During these past months Gular had learnt what matters held true importance. He did not care about something fragile such as life, he did not care for power, nor the hunger to survive. To him, honour and love guided any fulfilment in life. Countering another attack, Gular finally replied. "This fight is far from over and you know it. I won't ever let you get away with what you've done to our people and my family. You will pay for what you've done I swear that much!"

Darken, who wasn't anything alike what he seemed to be, was enjoying every moment. But there were things he did not understand. Why was this boy so determined? What had convinced him into believing the things he did? He knew Gular was aware of his power. He knew the boy realized he wouldn't stand a chance. So why didn't Gular simply yield to him? Did he actually prefer death over a life under Darken's command?

"Your choice will be your downfall, you know this. So why will you not give in?"

A voice both of the warriors recognized yet couldn't place at once, reverberated over the valley. "Because there is one tiny detail you forgot about, Overlord!"

Looking up, they soon found out who had mingled in. It was Uyra. She stood onto a lifeless dune, her arms crossed. What was she doing here!

Although Darken was curious what she was getting at, he was also pleased. This sudden turn of tables made things even more interesting than before. What would Gular do once the Overlord had his hands on Uyra? How would such a feat affect him?

"Uyra! Get away!" Gular commanded.

At that, Darken's smirk grew wider. He sensed the ever-growing fear in Gular's bones, blowing apart the boy's determination. Gular's strength was deteriorating, and the dragon smouldering inside of him was sent back into its cage. So, Uyra was a convolution in Gular's menacing powers, was it not?

Uyra refused to listen. Gular could see the determination in her eyes and knew he could do nothing to stop her. With his heart engraved in fright, he had to hold on, he had to persist, no matter what.

The girl let herself drop down the steep hill, dust billowing behind her. She nodded at her brother as if telling him not to worry, not a single moment realizing how much it hurt the young prince to see her appear at such crucial moment.

"We shall fight side by side my brother," she said, calmly.

"Bound by flesh and blood, such strings will keep you attached to overwhelming weaknesses. Flesh and blood, will bring forth your downfall, Gular. Flesh and blood, ties of love and devotion shall cast a shadow across your ability to withstand my triumph. You will die, young prince."

Darken grinned, strengthening his words by making demeaning gestures with his hands.

Uyra looked at the pale haired man, his long mane of grey hair dancing on the wind. She had no idea what that man was talking about but she could sense it cut into Gular's heart. She growled, in an attempt to focus her guard but all she managed to do was stare incredulously. Her brother seemed like a different person entirely as the boy wrinkled his brow, trying to focus as he attacked Darken with great agility. The Overlord simply moved out of the way and grabbed Uyra by the throat. It hadn't even cost him a sweat to get to her.

She gasped for air.

"Uyra!" Gular screamed. The horror reflected in his eyes, wasn't just because of the Overlord's actions. It was because he knew taking Darken with him to his grave was no longer an option, not if he wished for his sister to survive.

Trying to suppress a smile, Darken fixed his gaze upon Gular. "Drop the weapon, son."

Uyra gasped a second time, trying to haul in some air. "Don't… Gular…" Tears welled in her eyes. She knew she'd made a grave mistake in coming. She was no match to Darken. No one was, except maybe Gular. She had failed. Trembling, she tried to speak her mind still. "Whatever you do… Gular… don't give up! Don't…"

The clouds thickened the carpet they spread out over the heavens, shutting down all reflected starlight.

Gular said nothing. He was at a loss for words. What was he to say? How could he assure her things would be fine? How could he assure her this wasn't her fault, that he did not blame her?

Uyra swallowed, pulling on Darken's arm, trying to free herself from his grip. She heaved, unable to fight her tears. "I'm so sorry, _brother, _I am so sorry…" Again she heaved, fending for air. "I should have listened."

Darken rolled his eyes, prolonging his sadistic simper. "Touching, really…" His features never atoned for his evil nature, indication Darken had no feeling. "Family induces weakness. I rid myself of Shaellar's ties, long ago."

Gular stared at his opponent. He knew what he was speaking of, though he had to ask. "You killed them, didn't you?"

The Overlord narrowed his eyes in delight. "They were of no use to me. The only one left alive was Shaellar's young brother Trax. He had a great sense of humour so I let him live. Nevertheless, it was _you_ who killed him…" He pressed his lips together before smirking smugly again. "Took away all my fun in killing him myself…" He laughed again, echoing against the ledges of mountain slopes looming in the distance. "It's time for me to rise to uncanny pinnacles."

His voice remained a loud whisper, aloof and cold, somehow having more impact than a scream.

"You are…" Gular was trying to find the right words. "No one can be that cruel… why are you like this?" Gular gazed at Darken, whose smile had faded, yet didn't seem even remotely saddened.

His voice seemed to lower even further, sounding more and more demonic by time. "I have been many. I have been Thrakan, Allurian, Darsian, Nameckuseijin and many more. And for long have I been Kaioushin…"

He tightened his grip on Uyra's neck and showed his teeth.

"Millennia ago, a foolish man named Zormit convinced me to take the soul of his second born Shaellar, to finally be able to avenge the Tribunal of Gods. Henceforth, I became apprentice of the Eternal Dragons Therin and Rhym. And of course, I betrayed them. Unfortunately I only succeeded in destroying two of four original Guardians. The others took upon all their powers to hunt me down. Now, you might ask yourself, how can I still be alive?"

Darken's smirk slowly returned at the sight of Gular and Uyra's stunned faces.

"The answer is simple, really. Upon becoming the Guardian's apprentice I was given divine powers the Higher Dragon had given the original Dragons millennia ago. Foolish enough to believe I had been destroyed, these ancient powers have never been taken away, providing me with a sleeping strength inside of me that is finally though gradually being released from its slumber. My connection to Therin and Rhym, at present locked by the Dragon Balls as Shenlon and Porunga, was never broken. As long as they hold on to their power, so will I. Saved me a lot of inconvenience as I do not have to bother to steal another person's soul every other century."

The Overlord narrowed his eyes and purred almost, "Consequent to your birth, Prince Gular, the ancient powers of the Chikurajin began to stir, awakening for long. Once more giving me the opportunity to have my revenge over the _Council,_ and the Higher Dragon Murass. I _will_ rule the Worlds."

Uyra, although she had trouble breathing, seemed perplexed.

"You're the Hakaisha," she whispered.

The Overlord laughed: a laugh full of irony and madness. "Very keen," he commented dryly.

Gular bared his teeth angrily. "The Hakaisha's just a myth! Trax was mad. He was… mad." Trax had been telling him the truth. Trax had known all along.

Darken squeezed Uyra's neck tighter and she was almost unconscious, gasping for air that would not come, when finally Gular launched his attack.

The Overlord tossed Uyra to the side, and a cloud of despair and malice surround him. The Dragon was being summoned. The dragon, set to destroy everything within its path, seemed stronger than it had been before. Something had in fact been stirred awake. And Gular knew it was the Destroyer's doing. He did not know how but Darken had grown more powerful, as if what he was now was but an indication of what he was to be sooner or later. This was not an ordinary dragon, Gular realized. And something, something other than his worry for Uyra's well-being kept him from awakening the powers he held within. Ryoku Gular could not be beckoned.

He stood there, watching how the dragon before him grew stronger and bigger. He couldn't do a thing. Some power was holding him back. It wasn't a shield Darken had conjured, nor was it fear or apprehension. Gular did not understand.

"You must be wondering, child," said Darken after he'd transformed into a long, curled up black dragon, and his entire backside was covered with sharp horns and spines. "You must be wondering," he said a second time, catching Gular's attention. "Why it is you cannot move."

"Not really wondering," replied Gular semi-casually, "More like considering."

"Whatever!" snapped Darken. "I would go for a fair fight and let you do your silly Ryoku joke again but what would that make me? Honourable? There is no honour in me, you know this. I know how often you've thought about it. So, let me prove YOUR point…"

Gular gaped at him incredulously, then looked to the side, where his sister was slowly trying to get up. The dragon approached him, opened its huge jaws, closed its eyes, and swallowed the boy. Gular was gone. He'd been eaten.

Laughing insanely, the dragon vanished into the distance, not interested in Gular's sister at all.

Uyra screamed.

She sunk to her knees again, tossing up sand. She heaved, unsure of what had just happened. Her brother was gone, she was sure of it. No one could ever have survived that. The horror written in her face told a story of its own. She had heard his bones snapping, his ribcage collapsing under the pressure. And she was sure she had heard a muffled scream, Gular's scream. But then, she wasn't only horrified and devastated. She was also angry. Her brother had screamed though he had not shared his pain and torture with her, his own sister, he had shared it with Cyane, Uyra knew. Cyane had only been his wife for what? A year and a half? Uyra had been his sister for his entire damned life! It wasn't fair!

She slammed her fists into the dusty soil, tossing up more sand.

But his death had been her fault so she should've been tortured with his scream, not Cyane. Cyane was innocent. Cyane did not deserve such memories. It just wasn't right.

She bent over and wept as if she'd gone mad. And she didn't care who might see or hear her. She didn't care. For Gular was gone. Her brother was dead.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: I'm sorry for the lack in detail with some parts. If I had made everything in depth, even Dodoria's groping, there's no telling where I'd ended up. The chapter's already long as it is. I already tried hard not to make that grope-scene, or Zarbon's escapade too violent or graphic. I even tried to make it a little humorous.

Please forgive me for the M rating. I just don't think the scenes were suited for youthful readers. Correct me if I'm wrong.

If you feel the relationship of Gular and Cyane's been under lighted, you're probably right. It just didn't feel right to give their relationship that much attention. I like how incomplete it seems. If you don't, do not hesitate to tell me.

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	20. Tale 17 Rebellion

**BOOK I**  
**"There's Always A Way, Until You Give Up"**

Tale Seventeen ---Rebellion---**  
Rating: T**

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

From a distance he observed the girl. He wondered what she was doing there. Okay, it was obvious she was grieving but for whom? Had she just lost her husband to war or famine? Had her husband been part of the rebellion? Even seeing her from behind, he knew she was a stranger to him. He hadn't seen her before. He definitely would have remembered a beauty such as herself. Although her dress was hand-woven and had obviously been modelled after some royal design, he presumed she belonged to one of the local settlements. Likely, she was a peasant though she might as well be a fisher's or butcher's wife. He almost jumped when the small device he kept hidden in one of his pockets began to buzz, its noise initially gentle but ever-growing.

Skimming his hands from pocket to pocket, even batting his chest when he couldn't find the beeping gadget, he nearly panicked, and cursed.

"Damn you, August. Damn your moronic, so-called inventions," he muttered under his breath. He swallowed, suddenly frozen to the spot as the tip of a blade likely sharp enough to split his skull effortlessly stopped dead at the side of his neck, just below his left ear. Slowly, he looked up, expecting to have at least a dozen soldiers backing the warrior holding the blade at his chin glare back at him. Instead, he looked into the pale eyes of the girl he'd observed earlier.

"Where's the rest of you!" she snapped angrily.

He gaped at her, noticing her cheeks held freshly left tracks belonging to an evident flood of tears. But he could sense she was more angered than sad, more frightened than mournful. She was still beautiful, even when looking at him like he were some sort of monster.

"Answer me!" she yelled. A glint of panic flickered in her voice. Regardless, the man was sure she knew how to use the sword she was holding. He inspected the blade, and was convinced it was almost perfectly balanced. There was a symbol marked into the hilt of the sword. Even if he but glanced at the symbol he recognized it was a family weapon, and not just any family weapon; it was the mark of the Ryuujin Royals, the imperial family that had lead the Chikurajin people for over an age. She must've stolen it, or otherwise found it somewhere. The Overlord had destroyed any symbol reminding of the former leadership except the temple of Ryuuguu. Where on Chikura-sei could this weapon have come from?

He looked her in her eyes, trying to calm her down with his intense stare.

"Where did you get that?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyes. She wanted to tell him to quit his nonsense but for a moment she sensed what he was really up to. All he wanted was to know how she came upon her sword. Now that she was calming down a bit she understood he wasn't one of Darken's men out to destroy her. He was just a local, most likely.

"It's mine. I didn't steal it, if that's what you're saying."

He smiled. "It's just that this is a royal weapon…" He swallowed uncomfortably, gesturing at the tip of the blade still at his throat. "If you please…"

Uyra laughed. "Sorry. I thought you were one of Darken's men." She sheathed her sword and pulled him out of the bush he had been hiding in. She flicked some dust off her dress. "I'm Uyra Ryuujin. I guess that answers your question how I got the sword."

He stared at her, speechless. Yes, she surely was the spitting image of the former Queen. And, why would she lie about it? It'd only endanger her life and she didn't look like an idiot not realizing the risks of revealing a royal heritage. For Darken wanted nothing more than to wipe out all ties to the royal family, the royals themselves being on top of his hitlist. He still stared at her, for he realized she truly must be a Ryuujin descendant as he saw her birthmark shaped like the Dragon Tear, on her forehead no less. "You mean… you…" He stammered, and pointed with his index finger in a rather moronic way, then dropped to one knee to bow before her.

This time, it was Uyra's turn to stare. She laughed awkwardly, pulling the man up by his collar. "Get up! Don't be ridiculous. I was born out of royalty, true, but I'm no better than anyone else. Likely I'm worse."

Obviously, the man wasn't sure how to reply to her. He showed her half a smile and held out his hand to introduce himself. "I'm Januar," he said.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"Do you have any idea who I am!" he snapped. He clenched his fists and pure energy burst from him, putting pressure on the dirtcovered soil he stood upon.

"I am the Prince of the Saiyajin. I will kill you if you dare mock me."

Zarbon watched the young prince from a distance. He found Vejiita had learned a lot over the past three years since he'd begun training the boy. Unfortunately, Vejiita still had a temper unheard of. Possibly, his temper was even worse than Furiiza's. Perhaps his temper was just the thing Furiiza liked about the Saiyajin prince.

Young Vejiita may be strong – especially for his age – but he had a hard time controlling himself. There was no point in being strong if you were incapable of diplomacy. Furiiza knew just that. It had taken Furiiza years to understand. His father, King Cold hadn't been nearly as impatient as Furiiza was with Vejiita. Cold had been too damn soft on Furiiza and his brother Cooler. Because of his father's patience, had Furiiza been forced to live in his shadow for too long. Sometimes, Furiiza thought he still dwelled in his father's shadow. There was no point in being super powerful as long as your own father was still stronger than you. How could you ever be a respected warrior, or leader for that matter, if you still had to live up to your father, still had to answer to him? But Furiiza respected his father. His father was sincerely strong, and above all, a good father. Furiiza did not share that sympathy for King Vejiita, father to that brat prince. Vejiita's father wasn't a good king. He lived in a memory, a legacy that did not exist. How could any king, and a father at that, be anything more than a halfwit if he believed in silly little fantasies such as the resurrection of the Super Saiyajin order?

So honestly, Furiiza knew there was but one way to keep Vejiita from being poisoned by the King's foolish dreams and desires: he had to dispose of the Saiyajin no Ou personally.

Zarbon knew of Furiiza's plans. He didn't mind. He already found the King of Saiyajin had stepped out of line on various occasions and he felt the man was growing too bold for his liking. He was pleased Furiiza felt the same. Smirking devilishly, he wondered how it would affect young Vejiita, Prince of the Saiyajin.

"What are you smirking about?" Vejiita asked irritably.

"You'll find out, young prince," replied Zarbon. "Trust me, you will." He couldn't help but laugh in a malevolent way. How he loved it whenever Lord Furiiza schemed something vicious beyond imagination. He truly did.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Life was not as easy as one would think when Darken kept quiet. For he did. He did not show himself. But Uyra would not let the serenity fool her. And she was lucky to find someone who agreed with her in Januar. But Januar was more than just a local peasant. Januar was none other than the leader of an underground rebellion called 'Mgila dsot Nitale' or MDN which could be roughly translated into 'recuperative and bellicose struggle for hope'.

Uyra met kindred folk wanting nothing but freedom from Darken's yoke.

It was only natural she and her friends learned to cooperate with the MDN rebellion. And Januar never disputed her leadership for she was the last of the Ryuu legacy.

Cyane had her baby, a healthy girl named Nita, named after hope.

But Darken would not allow the woman to raise her own child. For he wanted to destroy all ties with Gular, including Uyra and everyone who would help her. Darken had had enough. Darken wanted to destroy Gular's sister after all.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Januar and Uyra weren't there the day Darken came. Cyane, Fall, Winter and the others, they were left to themselves. Uyra hadn't expected him so soon and was ill prepared save a carefully thought out escape plan. How Darken knew where to find them? Cyane wasn't too sure but she suspected Januar's rebellion wasn't purely consistent of actual rebels but poisoned with the dangerous clutches of spies and deserters.

There was no other way. The MDN organisation had simply become too big to screen everyone. He was here. Darken was here.

Cyane knew what to do. She knew there was no other way.

"Winter," she said, "take Nita away from here."

"But what about you?" Winter asked.

"Please, don't make this any harder. Please take Fringe and Nita away from here. I trust you know where to go." Mutely, Winter nodded.

Cyane breathed in and out, calming down.

"Fall, you warn Uyra. Find her." Then, she looked at her grandmother and nodded once. They knew it was up to them now to stop Darken from crushing everything they had fought for. They knew they had no choice but to sacrifice themselves for the greater good.

As Winter took the baby girl – an absolute Gular clone – in her arms and took Fringe by his hand she looked behind her one last time and knew it would be the last time she'd ever see them again.

"I'll take care of them, Cyane. I promise."

It was all Cyane needed to know. Her child and her brother would be safe with her Human friend, she knew.

Fringe screamed as his grandmother and sister slowly vanished from his eyesight. He screamed and cried and reached out his hand, but there was little more he could do. And as Cyane saw her brother's tear stricken face slowly disappear into the distance, she knew she'd always remember how much she loved him.

Darken was waiting for them. She knew he was. And as she stepped outside and into the sun, she met him without fear or remorse.

"Where's the Ryuu heir?" the Overlord asked.

Dyla looked at Cyane worryingly and waited for her to answer the man's question.

"Someplace safe. Someplace you'll never find. It's over, Overlord." She said.

Cyane and Dyla took each other by the hands, standing back to back. The both of them closed their eyes and Darken just watched them, wondering what in the name of all things rotten they were doing.

_By the power of the Ancient_

_The Light shall cast away The Dark_

_Forever binding it in a glow of righteousness_

_Forever claiming it as but a shadow it casts_

Cyane opened her eyes for a moment to look at the Overlord.

"It's over Darken," she whispered loud enough for him to hear. "You're nothing but a shadow."

The girl smiled as did her grandmother. And at that point, the both of them embraced their fate and as light burst from them, they ran into the man who to them was only a shadow.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Cyane had been right. Darken could not find Uyra. And just that wasn't the only thing that frustrated Darken for the rebellion grew ever bigger. Despite Darken's attempts in destroying everything outside the fertile lands surrounding the palace and claiming all technology including airships to patrol and radios to communicate, the rebels did not surrender. The core of the rebellion lay in the highlands to the North, close to the city of Cadmiru.

But it were Darken's attempts to destroy the rebellion that fed people's hatred and need to fight back. The many deaths through hunger, disease and destruction waged by Darken's minions and Councillors only made for the rebellion to grow. Most rebels came from the very highlands and Sah G'nar, mainly from places such as Cadmiru, Yatuc and Garin. Cities, once prosperous, but now filled with despair, dismay and illness. The organization gave them hope; something they had missed for such a long time. But would it be enough? Could the Overlord be stopped?

It would certainly be difficult and dangerous especially for cities such as Cadmiru and Yatuc; they had the harshest Councillors the Overlord could possibly appoint.

Despite the fact the rebellion thrived, Uyra was not happy. Januar was oblivious to the fact she wanted him close. Although they were lovers, Uyra didn't feel it. Januar was always out. He was only there for her when he wanted to. To make matters worse, she tried to give him the son he wanted so badly but she could not. She gave him a son but the child did not live through its first winter. And when she would finally give him another son, she had a miscarriage. Uyra gave up. Through all this time Fall stood by her side. He hated Januar for his inconsiderate, selfish nature, he hated him for what he put Uyra through. So he held her in his arms, he held her like all dear friends would have, especially after having lost another child. It was just the trigger Januar needed.

"I knew you were playing behind my back from the beginning," he sneered, the hurt and rage imminent in his tone of voice.

Uyra and Fall looked up. Uyra frowned, and looked up with a tearstricken face.

"What are you talking about?" she whispered. Slowly, she tried to stand but had a hard time keeping her balance. Fall supported her and helped her up.

"This!" Januar screamed, pointing. "The two of you playing behind my back! You think I'm blind, Uyra! Did you really think I was blind!"

Before Uyra could even respond, Januar stormed out, into the dangerous night. He'd never come back.

Two days later, Darken publicly executed him. And even though rebels tried to free him, they failed and suffered the same fate as their leader. Uyra was inconsolable.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Dreams haunted young Nita. They had haunted her since early childhood. But they weren't ordinary dreams, trust me, they were not. It was almost as if her mother and father were trying to point out something. As if they were trying to point it out to her. But what?

The dreams were always the same. She was walking alongside a river of blood over which a bold, red sun shone. By the end of the river stood her mother and father, who was holding a baby. It was only natural to think the baby was her but it was not. The baby had a furry tail, much like animals did. And the child had long, black horns, much longer than her own. Her hair was an unnatural purple, and looked hardly like a Chikura baby.

They asked her to hold it. They asked her to keep it safe. They asked her to find it.

And as they had said that, she'd always wake up. But not this time. This time she dreamed for a little while longer. She dreamt she took the child in her arms and all the world lit up, flourished with life anew. And she could hear how her father whispered to her how much he loved her.

Sometimes, she thought she could hear her father's voice in her head, even whilst being wide awake. What did this mean?

She looked at the ring her mother had given her the day she'd been born. The ring had been her father's, some heirloom or something. She kept it on a string around her neck because she wanted to keep it as close to her heart as possible. She thought of her father as she looked into the powerful red stone embedded in the ring, a stone that shone like the sun. She tried to imagine what her father'd been like. She wondered what she should do, and what to make of those dreams. What did her parents have to do with that strange baby?

Find it.

Nita blinked. "Who's there?"

You hold the secret. You hold the secret.

Although she was frightened, the male voice didn't sound very alarming, almost sounded familiar.

You know it's there. All you have to do is find it.

"Find what?" asked Nita.

"Who are you talking to?" It was Fringe. He had just entered Nita's quarters to check up on her, since she'd been locking herself up lately.

Nita ignored him. She must know what secret the voice was speaking of.

"Find what!" she repeated.

"You're losing it," said Fringe, joking.

Angrily, Nita shook her head.

She sighed. She wasn't sure what to make of anything anymore.

"Uncle Fringe, can you keep a secret?"

Fringe sat down, and gestured Nita to do the same.

"You know you can trust me." He said.

So she told him everything.

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"Uyra! Uyra, you've got to hear this!"

Like a crazed man, Fringe ran down the corridors inside the mountain, which had been their hide-out for years now, deep inside of the planet.

"Uyra!"

"What the HFIL's going on?" wondered Winter, as she came rushing out of her quarters, into the corridor. Before Fringe could hurry past her, she stopped him with both hands.

"Spit it out, kiddo!" she said warningly. Although Winter knew Fringe wasn't really a child anymore and could be considered an adult, she still looked at him with the same eyes.

Just at that moment, Uyra came to see what was the matter.

"Darken's project! Uyra, remember? Remember Darken's project!" Fringe shouted.

Solemnly, Uyra nodded. "I remember. Gular mentioned it. As did your sister."

"Nita, she… she…"

"What about Nita," said Winter, trying to get some sense back into the man.

"Father is trying to point something out to me," said Nita. She walked down to where the others stood, in the centre of the corridor, and ignored the other rebels looking at all the commotion from their quarters.

"Father?" Uyra wondered. "Gular?"

"Yes," Nita answered.

She decided it'd be best to tell aunt Uyra and Winter the same she had told Fringe, and asked them for a quiet place. Uyra ushered them inside her quarters, and ordered Fall to come, too.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"But what does it mean?" Winter contemplated.

"I don't know," said Nita.

Uyra kept quiet. She suspected what Nita's dreams meant but wasn't too sure she should tell the others. She knew the child her brother was holding in Nita's dream was created out of a Saiyajin. She knew Saiyajin had furry tails and where the only of the beings Darken had collected to have such a tail. Gular had casually shown her through his thoughts, ages ago.

And the fact the world lit up the moment Nita held the child in her arms told her one thing and one thing only.

"The Kyuusaisha."

All looked at Uyra. Most of them were confused, except maybe Fringe.

"The Saviour? What are you talking about, aunt?" he asked.

Uyra stared. "Did I just say that out loud?"

Everyone nodded.

She frowned and put a hand in front of her face. She had no choice but to tell them now. She hated how much she daydreamed and thought aloud sometimes.

"I have reason to believe, the child in your dream is the Saviour."

"The Saviour?" Nita seemed puzzled.

"Yes." Uyra really didn't want to say much more than that. For even if the child were the Saviour, there was no certainty, and there was always the risk of Darken interfering.

Fringe stood, suddenly. "The ring! That's it!" he yelled. "Nita, hand me your ring for a second."

Hesitantly, Nita gave her uncle the ring she wore around her neck. "Why?" she asked.

"Because the ring's the answer, that's why." He replied.

As he started pulling and prising on the ring's red stone, he separated the stone from the ring and revealed a tiny, folded piece of paper. "Take it," he ordered Nita.

When the girl started unfolding the paper it soon became clear it was a letter. Diffidently, she begun reading it out loud.

_Dear Nita and my beloved Cyane, dear friends,_

_Nita, although I never held you in my arms, never called out your name, I've been with you this whole time._

Tears started welling in her eyes. This was her father! This was her father calling out to her!

_By the time you read this, I will be long gone. But part of me lives on. I asked Cyane to raise two children for me, not just you, Nita. Cyane may remember but if you do not, I'll remind you, my love. _

Nita paused for a moment. Gular obviously would never have thought Cyane – her mother – wouldn't make it to this day. She fought back a sob and tried to read on. Her vision was blurred and Fringe took over for her, continuing.

_I also discussed the possibility of creating a child artificially with Winter, and she assured me it was possible. She called it cloning or genetic alteration, I don't remember which was which. But I'm sure she or her brother know what I speak of._

_Darken wished to create a Perfect Warrior. We will not let him. If the Hakaisha lives, as I suspect he will, I want you to create that Perfect Warrior._

Uyra gasped. "No, no…" she protested.

_This child will change everything in our world. It will interlude a new era. An era of liberation. Winter, Fall, I want you to create that warrior for me. Cyane, I want you to raise it as our own. And Uyra, dear Uyra, teach it the values of the Ancient Ryuujin, teach it its task as part of the Kyuusaisha. They will find each other, the Kyuusaisha spirits. But only if this child lives. Nita, you know where to find the genetic material I took with me from that blood-red planet I called Vejiita. You know where it is. Find it._

_It's a race against time. For the Hakaisha will only grow stronger._

_You must grow stronger, too. Fringe, take good care of your sister and your grandmother, she must be so old by now._

_I love you all,_

_Gular._

"No!" Uyra screamed. "It's a lie!"

Winter and Fall shook their heads. "I don't think so," said Winter. "I believe your brother is right. I believe Gular knew more than we did and knows more still."

Uyra knew Winter was right. But how could they ever create a child without a mother and father?

"I know it's hard to imagine," Fall said, "but I know with the right tools and circumstances it's possible to create a living human being – or any other being – out of genetic material only, without an actual mother and father. I've created small animals and reptiles back on Earth just in a petri-dish and fluid bath. I've even cloned genetically advanced cattle." It was almost as if Fall could read Uyra's mind.

"No," Uyra disputed, "It's too risky."

"Aunt Uyra," Nita interrupted, "I've never been allowed outside the catacombs. Isn't this child worth risking? Isn't our freedom worth fighting for?"

Uyra closed her eyes. This wasn't her call. It was her brother's. When thinking of the way he'd died, how it was her fault because she intervened, because she had not listened to her brother, she decided for once to listen to him. It was her duty to fulfil his last wishes.

She hadn't a choice.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Nita didn't think she remembered. But her father had assured her she did. And honestly, there was but one thing she remembered. It was the landscape in her dream.

It was the river, and the mountains in the distance, it was the huge Arlu-tree that hung half-suspended over the riverbank. She knew that must be the place. What else could be?

The night she told the others, she had hoped they'd allow her to come with them but her illusions were shattered; Fringe would go, alone.

However, belligerent as Nita was, she wouldn't accept it. She had had enough of only being allowed to dream of the outside world. She was sick and tired of being treated like she was a hazard to them all. She'd prove she could take care of herself. And so, she snuck out and followed Fringe to the location she had pointed out earlier.

As she watched him from a distance, looking at her uncle as he walked around the tree Nita had told him about she didn't realize she was actually allergic to the buds and seeds of the small bush she was hiding behind.

"Achoo!" She sneezed.

Instantly, Fringe turned and drew his sword. As he pushed the tip of his blade into the bush, he pulled up whoever had been spying on him.

"Nita? What do you think you're doing here?" He tried to keep his voice down as to not alarm possible soldiers in the vicinity.

"I'm here to help you," she said.

Fringe ushered her to keep her voice down. He rubbed the back of his head. "I can't say I don't need it because I can't find the spot you pointed out."

Nita had already walked past him. She'd begun digging into the ground near the tree. And before Fringe could give her a hand she'd already dug up a small case and held it in her hands victoriously.

"Haha! We got it! We got it!"

"Nita! Keep your voice down!" Fringe warned, not realizing he was shouting himself.

"Identify yourselves."

Nita stared with big eyes, and slowly, Fringe turned. It was the Councillor of Yatuc, Strae, and at least half a dozen soldiers.

For a moment, Fringe glanced at Nita. "Run Nita! Run!" Nita ran, as fast as she possibly could.

The Councillor smirked. "Lamb, Chop and Buff," he ordered calmly. "After her!"

"I know you," he said to Fringe. "You're one of them Healers."

Fringe rubbed his neck. _How about stating the obvious_, he thought to himself. Yeah, it must've been his robes and pale hair, eh? He shook his head, thinking what an idiot this Strae must be.

"No point denying, kid." Said the Councillor. "I know who you are, rebel."

"Seize him!"

If Strae thought Fringe would go down without a fight, he'd be mistaken.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Fringe fought with all the power and agility he had, and he did gain the upper hand but things changed completely the moment the other soldiers came back with Nita and the box.

For a moment, all Fringe did was stare and listen to what they had to say. One of the bigger soldiers held Nita under his right arm as she was kicking and screaming to wiggle free.

"Let me go, you big bully!" she shrieked.

Saluting their Councillor, the soldiers threw Nita by the man's feet, holding out the case for Strae to take.

"She ran as if she'd never been in the area, Lord Councillor…" One of the soldiers reported. "Tripping over everything, running in the strangest directions. She tried to fool us by tossing the box in the river but as you can see, Pork Chop jumped in to retrieve it. He's good at playing fetch." Pork Chop grumbled in response, soaked from head to toe.

"Very well," said Councillor Strae. "I guess fighting isn't such a good idea after all, young Healer. For if you resist, the girl will die."

Nita started crying when Fringe gave in. "I'm sorry, Fringe. I'm so sorry I failed you."

Fringe shook his head. "You didn't fail. I did."

The Councillor laughed with pleasure. "I'm sure the Overlord would be thrilled to find out why this silly little box is so important to you, child. I'm sure he'd love to see you, too, Fringe. Last of the Ryuu Healers."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The Overlord found out what was so special about the dusty old box. He found out about its contents. He was more than thrilled to finally be able to have his wishes for a Perfect Warrior fulfilled. It was just the thing Uyra had feared but instead of losing hope, she held on to it. She did because her friends were there for her. She did because Fringe and Nita, now captive to the Overlord, didn't give up either. There was always hope as long as you believed in it, she now realized.

The Overlord handed the tiny little capsules inside the box to the best of his scientists. He soon found out they contained Saiyajin and Chikurajin blood samples. There was also a note in it with a elaborate explanation on how to create a creature without any parents involved. He crumbled it to dust and thought about the blood samples that had been in the same box. And he knew, he knew, the Chikurajin sample was special for it contained a structure unlike anything he had ever seen. He realized the box must have belonged to Gular. He realized Uyra must've sent the Healer and his young girlfriend – or whatever their relation was – to retrieve it. He smirked at the thought. Uyra had tried outsmarting him. Uyra had failed.

Little did Darken know his scientists were no fools. For they knew everyone who would participate in the actual creation of this Perfect Warrior, would be executed as soon as the Overlord had the final result in his clutches. And this was just the reason for them to create a being able to outlive them and to outlive the Overlord.

This creature would not obey the Overlord the way he wanted it to obey him.

Year by year, it would grow stronger and would be progressively disobedient to the Overlord than before.

This warrior would become more powerful by every injury, grow stronger with every battle and would outlive the likes of Overlord Darken.

Their revenge would come through their own creation.

They fooled Darken the way he had fooled them with his meaningless promise of a secure life, a secure family. They fooled him by creating clones without any viability. Except one. And it was no coincidence this creature was female. As, it was no secret the Overlord despised all women. They knew it would force their creation into hating him the way he'd loathe of her.

Manipulating it into a creature that would eventually find but one purpose in life, which was to destroy the Destroyer Overlord, they knew their revenge would come through this small, unborn child.

However, none of them could ever predict how much growing up under the Overlord's iron fist would affect their creation. But they knew she'd destroy the Destroyer. And that was all that mattered to them.

If only they had known what kind of monster they had created by letting Darken, whose mind had been poisoned by the malignant desires of the Hakaisha for centuries, have his hands on their masterpiece. If only they had known.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

_I keep on walking_

_To an unknown horizon_

_An unseen future_

_Just keep on walking_

_The past is gone_

_And it is for sure_

_The future's now_

_So keep on walking_

_Perhaps one day_

_If it's not too late_

_I will seek and find_

_Someone to walk along the way_

_A person who can challenge fate_

_Who will give me true peace of mind_

_And can help me choose my destiny_

_To live with love and to be free_

_Or just to walk this world with me._

---JoSav 1998, "Walk This World"---

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Author's Note: This is the end of Book One. A lot happened in this last episode. I could've told everything in depth, about Nita's upbringing, the relationship of Uyra and Januar, about Vejiita and what not but I decided against it. It's time to move on. It's time to show what the Hakaisha and Kyuusaisha are all about. Book Two is being worked on as we speak. Do tell me what you think. And thank you for reading thus far.

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	21. Tale 18 The Creation

_"Evil does exist. And no true definition can be found to why a person would want to be evil or not. However, no one, not even the cruellest maniac nor the most brutal manslayer, is entirely evil. A heart always turns to stone; surely has it once been filled with emotion, regardless of how long ago this might have been. Not a single entity can be free of simple feelings such as friendliness, compassion or even love. And all are able to change. All, with the exception of one: the Reiniku no Hyakuhei; the body and soul of all evils. Better referred to as the Hakaisha, or Destroyer, this creature has no need to seek evil; it is pure evil."_

_"As the prophecy states, the Hakaisha will rise when the balance between the Naibunjisen and Uwanjisen is disturbed. It will then seek the right moment to spread Makura, total darkness, across both worlds. If this Destroyer rises, may the gods help us. If this Destroyer rises, let us pray for the Kyuusaisha; the Saviour. The Saviour will be the only one able to stop the Destroyer …._

_Light can defeat darkness, no matter how weak, it can. It has been, and always will be, that way."_

---Legends of a Forgotten Time. Ch. 3: "The Ancient Prophecy"---

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BOOK II 

**"Evil Can Only Exist If You Believe In It"**

Tale Eighteen---The Creation---  
**Rating: M**

_Spit you in the face  
__Unbiased, undefined  
__Slit your throat  
__Dotingly and refined  
__Cut through your heart  
__Found nothing but a shell  
__Of boundless emptiness  
__I look at you with a dirty face  
__Please, just please don't turn off the light  
__I want to be that tough  
__I want to open up  
__It's sickening  
__I know_

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He sat quietly, staring without interest. His entire appearance was thick with arrogance as well as boredom. The dancers that performed their skills without sulking from across the room, were given but a glance from time to time. The Overlord was bored, and complemented such conclusion by yawning excessively.

The massive door at the far end of the throne room moved, shaking up the burnished marble floor when it opened. Hesitantly, a young man looked over the edge of the doorframe. Darken paid no attention to the man and leaned his chin onto his hand palm, growling with tedium.

Then, the youth entered the throne room and rushed for Darken swiftly, kneeling before the Overlord's feet. The boy was no older than in his late teens, his lab coat indicated he was one of the imperialist scientists.

"Overlord!"

Darken snorted and brushed his eyebrow with an index-finger, not revealing any indication of interest. "For your own sake," he grunted irritably, "Get on your feet and spit out whatever it is you are planning to bore me with this time."

The boy looked up frightfully and seemed at a loss for words. His blood-red eyes revealed confusion, much to Darken's frustration.

"Get on with it!"

The youth raised himself up though careful not to dishonour his superior. "The perfect warrior is to be expected. It has already passed the other subjects in initial yet critical phase and has reached a stage of reasonable viability."

Catching the Overlord's interest, the old man turned towards the scientist, rubbing his chin in fascination. "Which means…"

Understanding his master did not comprehend what he had meant by such words he explained himself immediately. "Which means a healthy infant will be born within the next time period."

The Overlord raised his eyebrow. "And of which time period are we talking?"

"Well My Lord," the youngster replied cautiously, "Saiyajin expectancy last six standard months, which are close to four Chikura-sei moon cycles. Chikura-jin carry their spawn for sixteen moon-cycles…"

Darken brushed his shoulder length hair from his face and sighed impatiently. "I require an answer not a full-length analysis."

"Yes Sir," his subjacent apologized, "We estimated it would take approximately ten months with a maximum of twenty-six."

"Twenty-six!" Darken sneered, "I have no intention of waiting for the Perfect Warrior that long!"

"My Lord if I may be so blunt," the scientist interrupted, "Experiments have indicated that through genetic alteration and flux-aversion in larger cell clusters we will be able to influence the brainwaves inducted within the subject substantially."

"In other words," he continued, "We can direct its thought patterns."

"You mean, _I_ can direct its thought patterns, do you not?"

"Yes, sir."

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Fall could not understand why Uyra had given up on Fringe and Nita. He knew how important the youngsters were for her and that was his main motivation to suspect there was more to it than Uyra let him in on.

The night was cool and through a small breach where two mountain rims met, he could distinguish distant stars shining down on him. The winds danced above him but the cold would not fall into the cave. It had been long since he had been outside, it had been long since he had smelled the warmth of the morning sun chasing away the forest mists.

He sighed.

Uyra had changed. She was quieter somehow and he wondered whether Fringe and Nita's capturing had had anything to do with it. He thought it might but he feared there was something else that had gotten to Uyra. Had he something to do with it? Was he out of line for loving her, for desiring her? Had he been wrong to hold her as close as he did? Was it too soon?

If he were honest, he could actually determine what it was that frustrated her ever so dreadfully that she could no longer find the strength to fight.

For something prevented her from having a child of her own. It wasn't the dearth, the lack of nutrition or simply the harsh conditions in general. Fall didn't know how Chikura religion worked but he was quite sure the Gods themselves had more than something to do with it. And he wondered why. He wondered why Uyra wasn't allowed to keep the children she bore.

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It wasn't long before Darken insisted upon seeing the actual subject of his current interest. The Perfect Warrior was in creation, after so many years he had actually thought his imperial scientific staff would never succeed. He was pleased to hear of the creature's progress in analysing strategic plans and increments in competitive knowledge before even having comprehended the patterns of speech or the written word. The subject's brain structure was remarkable, to say the least. It was still in a foetal stage yet showed no distinguished difficulty with pointing out even the most complex feudal configurations.

But its incompetence considered understanding the psychological side of warfare was absurd to Darken's inference. Darken had insisted upon giving the Perfect Warrior not only a strategic development but also psychologically. Yet it continued refusing to respond to any kind of stimulus from this side of her brain. It was almost as if this part was developing on its own, unbiased by even the harshest form of treatment, from electro shock therapy to laser surgery.

"Let me see it."

Surprised to see the Overlord in these dim compounds, the dark haired scientist looked up to his master, not knowing what to say, he blurted out but a few words. "B-but Overlord… you can't possibly go in there. The experiments conducted in there require the highest form of concentration. Save that, sterile surrounding is necessary. Interference of third parties is definitely not equitable."

"You dare questioning me? My bidding is certainly not debatable."

"Yes, milord. My apologies, milord."

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The Perfect Warrior was female. Mentally, women had always had the advantage, even if Darken would deny prolifically. Females were blessed with willpower uncanny to anything a man could ever acquire. Physically on the other hand, they were considered weaker, though for this creature it would be of no difference.

To Darken, the difference would be all the greater.

Without a surrogate mother to foster the child, male or female hormones could be provided at will. The embryo would be as female as the scientists would want her to be. To the Overlord, such knowledge was not supplied thus Darken had no idea the Perfect Warrior's gender had been purposefully, even deliberately feminine. It was one of the minute but oh so vital schemes the scientific staff had generated to seize the never-ending onslaught the Overlord brought upon their once peaceful planet.

For Darken's downfall would be at the hands of this unborn creature, the Perfect Warrior.

But the scientists were endowed with concern by her Saiyajin heritage. Due to lack of knowledge, it was impossible for them to re-enact what happened in her brain cells from the moment she was just over fifteen months old. The problem could be solved if they had had access to a living, adult specimen. Truth was however, not long after the Saiyajin genetic sample had been gathered, Vejiita-sei – home of Saiyajin, was destroyed and its inhabitants had gone down with it.

Either of the scientists knew little or nothing of Saiyajin physiology. They knew enough to create a powerful hybrid but when it came to channelling the right stimulus, they were definitely ignorant.

How the creature's Saiyajin heritage would leave its marks in her future development, all they could do was make one assumption after the other.

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Darken was impatient.

It took much longer for the unborn to outgrow its embryonic stage than it took any average Chikurajin. This of course indicated the being wasn't normal, in fact, it was far from normal.

Apart from the excessively long incubation period, prior to a possible release from the tube filled with various stimulating fluids she was contained in, none could sense any kind of energy emitted from the child from the moment it had officially become foetal rather than embryonic. Even brainwaves were no longer readable and for quite a while, her vivacity was considered uncertain.

Darken's odium towards the creation's gender fed the growing force within him compelling him to end the experiment. The will to have a Perfect Warrior set to his hand however, was greater than the urge to destroy this puny female unborn consisting of a mere gathering of manipulated cells.

The Overlord checked on the foetus on a regular basis; more out of curiosity for its development than concern for its well-being.

What fascinated him were its horns: they were unusually large for an unborn child and there wasn't a doubt in Darken's mind this _lass_ would grow to be one of the rare long-horned females.

Throughout history there were only two of such females recorded. They were Alana and Ganda, former Fuhen no Ryuu.

Darken hated them, he had hated them more than anything, especially Ganda, Dragoness of Healing. To him, females were useless, mere tools used to ensure offspring.

And he hated Uyra, Child of Ryuuguu. If all else would fail he would at least be able to use the Creation to destroy the rebellion and Uyra in particular.

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In Uyra's heart the real essence of the rebellion had died. After the capture of Fringe and Nita she realized more than ever before there was no way they were ever going to win this struggle. After all they had tried, after years and years of fighting Uyra wasn't sure of anything anymore. Was there even a point left to all this?

She couldn't remember a world without famine, free from dearth and destruction. It had become part of their lives like the passing of the seasons.

Uyra Ryuujin had often wondered why all this happened. But now she no longer wanted to know why, she wanted to know how to end it.

She had already realized asking questions as to why this happened was pointless years ago, at the time of her brother's death. There was no reason to this horrific war. There was no reason to the Overlord. Did it matter what Darken's true intentions were? Did it really matter whether the real Darken lay somewhere hidden within the Hakaisha? Things were beyond reconciliation anyway. Uyra didn't want to hold on to the hope for Darken's salvation. There was no salvation left, for no one.

Uyra hadn't even been able to hold on to Januar. Of course, Januar had played an important role in recruiting revolutionaries in the early years of the rebellion. In the end, such open rebellious activity had pushed Januar in a very dangerous position.

Januar hadn't been vulnerable at the time of his death, actually, his position had been powerful. Januar knew this, but Januar had been vain; he hadn't been willing to realize Darken's power reached deeper than anyone might think at first glance. Januar had truly been blind after all.

Uyra had been overwhelmed by his death. In Januar, she had seen the same fire and devotion she had felt in Gular's presence. She had hoped by surrounding herself with such strong men, such as Januar and his brother August, she'd be able to learn from them. She'd been wrong. She honestly wondered what their ending had taught her. Januar had been too stubborn to reason with. He must've been worse than even Gular had been.

And Uyra was still left to wonder where in the name of the Highest of All these men got their courage, the strength to defy a creature as ill-willing as the Destroyer.

She didn't consider herself courageous. There was no honour in guerrilla. There was no honour in hiding. But what choice had she?

She kept the resistance alive in memory of Januar and Gular. For their relentless devotion and pride in defying Darken had given her so much strength. But that very devotion and pride had killed the two of them.

And Uyra truly wondered where she got the strength to go on this time. Was it the unborn life that was growing inside of her? Would this child really make such a difference?

The chilly river water calmed her raging mind somewhat. Her brain was filled with thoughts, with questions, with pleas for support from her ancestor Ganda.

It was an early morning when she found out. She had been given small hints throughout the past months causing her to assess the condition she was in but now she was certain. Uyra sat near an underground riverbank and sighed with fright. She was having another child. It was still in a very primary stage but she knew. And she knew the child would be female this time. A girl, she would have a baby girl.

Although she had lost two children in the past two decades, she realized more than just the gender differed this time. She was blessed with something she thought she would never find after Gular had been murdered. Uyra was at peace with her fate, she was at peace with the fact she hadn't been able to keep her promises, she had accepted she wasn't strong enough. All that mattered to her now was to stay alive long enough for this child to survive.

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Thunderstorms gathered around the citadel. The Palace of Ryuuguu was shaken up once more. This time however, it wasn't Darken's doing, at least, not intentionally.

Darken marched down the vast corridors at the north end of the palace, headed for the scientific ward situated behind the citadel. He was obviously upset.

The thick metal door leading to the main laboratory was guarded by a big red haired Ilrindûmé Fighter; he had a long beard that reached down to his chest plate and eyes that were but a shade lighter. He was a strong willed soldier, not willing to let anyone enter without receiving further orders from the councillor of Vizz-Uhn.

Darken ignored him and walked straight up to the black doorknob, intending of opening the metallic entry that stood in between him and finding out what was going on.

"I'm sorry sir," the guard protested, "but I cannot let you pass."

Darken narrowed his eyes and to the poor guard it seemed as if the Overlord's pupils turned a frightful white, something he had never held possible if he hadn't just witnessed the same.

"Insolent fool," the Overlord said mockingly, "Your mishap will be your downfall." His voice was threatening and low, a whisper almost.

"Forgive me, Sire." The frightened guard attempted. It was futile, for Darken had made up his mind. He pushed the unfortunate sentry to the side and opened the door calmly while the red haired man fell to his knees and suffocated by something undoubtedly inflicted upon him by Darken.

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ChiChi sighed. Piccolo was staying for dinner again. Again! She almost had the feeling he'd become part of the family. And although she knew how much Goku and Gohan liked him, she just couldn't stand how hushed and reserved he was. He never spoke during dinner, save for some short, insignificant replies. And he never touched his dinner, which was usually fish anyway because of Gohan's recent obsession of going fishing with his father. All Piccolo-san ever took were a couple glasses of water.

She was beginning to fear Piccolo was having too much of an influence on Gohan. Gohan hardly got to studying anymore. But maybe if she talked to Goku-sa about it; maybe her husband would be able to explain to Piccolo-san he'd have to go. It was for the sake of Gohan, after all. Piccolo frightened her, towering over her, spending so much time with Gohan. It just didn't seem right.

And Goku, Goku was finally back and now he was never there. He was always out. Of course, she was very pleased he spent so much time with their son but she wanted some attention, too. All she asked for was a little consideration every now and then. She didn't even ask for flowers anymore, not after the time he brought her an entire tree.

It wasn't the fact she was always left alone to do the dishes. It wasn't the fact she'd always slave around in the kitchen cooking a huge dinner just to please her husband. No, it was none of that. She was sick and tired of not being able to talk to Goku anymore. He never gave her a chance to talk to him, almost as if he didn't want to talk to her.

Just as he wanted out of the kitchen again to get back to sparring outside, she decided to speak up.

"Gohan," she said, "It's time for bed."

"What? Already?" Gohan protested.

ChiChi shot him a glare. "What did you say, young man?"

Gohan lowered his head and made his way to the stairs. "I'm sorry, mother. Goodnight mom, goodnight dad." Goku wished him goodnight. Gohan smiled for a second, and looked at Piccolo. "Goodnight, Mr. Piccolo."

"Night, kid." Said Piccolo.

Just as she heard the door to Gohan's bedroom close, she focused her attention on Piccolo and Goku again. "Well now," she began.

"Here it comes," whispered Piccolo to Goku.

"I think it's time for you to leave, Piccolo-san. Goku-sa and I need to talk."

Piccolo grinned. "That's my que. Good luck, Goku." Piccolo definitely didn't want part in a marital squabble. He saluted the two of them as he left and closed the door behind him.

As he charged up and leaped into the sky, Gohan opened his bedroom window and waved at him until he had vanished into the distance.

"Goku-sa," ChiChi spoke, "I've thought about it for a while and…"

Goku tiptoed towards the refrigerator, hoping there was something left for him to gobble down. As his fingers enclosed the handle he carefully pulled one of its doors open, hoping ChiChi would just keep talking about whatever it was she was trying to say to him.

"Goku, what are you doing?"

"_Hara heta na_. I'm just so hungry, ChiChi." Goku said, complaining.

"Don't even try, Son Goku. This is way too important for you to ruin…"

Somewhat concerned, Goku turned to her. "What's wrong, ChiChi?"

The woman hesitated for a moment, not sure what subject to bring up first. And in a haze she said what bothered her most, just like that.

"I want another baby."

Although he was a little surprised, Goku smiled, closing the refrigerator door. "_Yosh'_!" he called excitedly. "Gohan will be so pleased!"

ChiChi had expected him to say that. But what about them? What about Goku himself? What did he have to say about all this? ChiChi hid her worries. Goku'd never understand anyway.

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Inside the laboratory was a haze of lab-coated scientists running around in a panic. The usually sterile floor was covered in blood and other fluids and electrical cables were pulled loose from where they had initially been connected to all sorts of devices and machinery, electrifying pools of chemical fluids and setting them on fire.

Darken blinked slowly. He stretched one arm, accordingly withholding one scientist from running. "What's happened here?" the Overlord queried, remaining rather unbiased by what he saw.

"Milord…"

"Quit snivelling and answer the damned question!"

The scientist locked his pale eyes onto Darken's, and then looked at his shoes bashfully. "The Perfect Warrior has broken free."

"So?"

"Well… w-we can't control it. We're unable to seal it into one of the specifically developed pens. It's simply too perfidious."

"Nonsense. That must be the stupidest thing I have heard in months. Baby girl out of control!" He laughed condescendingly. "Let me see. Oh, I have to see that."

"Uhm… yes, sir!"

Leading him back to one of the smaller side-labs, the old scientist stopped dead in his tracks by the glass door that lead to the compound where the origin of all the mess was kept at bay.

"What are you waiting for? Get in!"

The scientist stared at him incredulously. "Sir, I'm not trying to question your authority but you have no idea how dangerous the creature is…"

Darken shook his head. He looked in through the glass door and what he saw was not what he'd expected. Rubble and splinters of metal and glass were covered with blood and dispersed across the wrecked laboratory. In the centre of the cavity sat a small child, wailing.

"Don't flatter it too much. Get in and show me how powerful it is."

He was afraid of the creature that looked to be harmless. He knew how dangerous it was but he also knew how dangerous the Overlord could be when his order was ignored.

He nodded at his master though not without hesitation. Slowly, he entered the chamber and approached the creature.

The pale haired scientist stretched out his arms, knowing what power this creature held, he wanted to keep away but had his orders. He was simply awaiting a certain death.

He knew what he and his colleagues had created as he saw its eyes beginning to glow. What they had created was something far beyond their control. Whatever their will or bidding, this creature had a mind of its own. A monster with an intellect he could only attempt to approximate. Carefully, he kneeled by its side, trying desperately to hide his fear though knowing it could see through him with those crimson, poisonous eyes. It hissed at him, he had no other description for the sound the creature emitted. It was a hiss yet not quite. It was petrifying, bloodcurdling even. It was unnatural to him, it sounded like a machine. The Creation was far from anything he would ever have imagined. Overlord Darken would be unable to comprehend what this being was, Darken would never understand.

Ever so deadly, the Creation tilted its head, looking upon the scientist derisively. It continued producing the same hiss, monotone and unnerving.

Then, he knew he would die and not soon after, he did. He fell to the blood-soaked floor, as his eyes rolled back into their sockets and he choked on his own tongue.

Darken smirked.

"Not bad. Not bad at all," he said to himself as he approached the 'Creation'.

Intrepid despite the creature's performance, he picked her up.

The tiny child glanced at him, not showing him any indication of fear. Other scientists that had been witness to the deaths of their colleagues were riddled as to why their Creation remained so utterly calm upon the touch of the man they had imprinted in her soul to hate. To them, it was incredible and disheartening.

The Overlord turned towards a middle-aged research assistant. "Arrange a nurse to feed it."

He left, holding the naked infant in one hand.

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The grey haired tyrant, Lord Darken, was quite impressed by the Creation. Its performance earlier that week when it had not only suffocated nearly a dozen scientists by mere eye-contact, it had also torn four of them apart without touch or even casting a simple glance upon them. Regardless, scientists were no Fighters, and Darken knew this.

He still despised its gender, thereby preferred calling it by a neutral name. Tacris Yamnar, was a word Ryuujin used for a soulless being, a creature that attracted death as well as inducted it upon others, it was a creature feeding on corruption and decay, a creature free from any moral code. Tacris Yamnar, bringer of darkness. Tacris Yamnar, the Grim Reaper.

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Vejiita snorted and kept his arms folded. He really wondered what the hell he was doing here. Back in the days when he had been under Furiiza's rule he at the very least had been able to destroy simply for the heck of it. Of course, Furiiza scolded at him but why should he care what that snivelling little lizard had to say?

As he looked back at the past twenty years he wondered where he'd made a wrong turn. Although it was hard for him to acknowledge he had in fact been naïve as a youngster, he knew he wasn't exactly perfect but he did come damned close! He had surrounded himself with a bunch of idiots after his planet had been destroyed, weakling survivors, the last of the Saiyajin. Yes, Vejiita had known all along Furiiza had destroyed his world. He had known because Zarbon had left small hints for him. Was he thankful Zarbon had told him? No, for he hated that snivelling fagot and was glad he was dead. Vejiita was absolutely outraged over the fact he hadn't been able to have his revenge over Furiiza. It had long been prophesised the Legendary Super Saiyajin would rise and avenge its species. And the Super Saiyajin did avenge its species but instead of the Prince of Saiyajin, the Super Saiyajin had been a lowclass _baka_.

_Kakarotto_, Vejiita thought, and he bared his teeth. How he despised that thirdclass idiot.

"Now now, Vejiita-san," said a woman with a rather high-pitched voice, "No more mister gloomy for you. Have a Shirley Temple. And do join us in the backyard when you're feeling better, mhh?" She pushed a glass of ice-cold soda, with a little paper umbrella in it, in Vejiita's hands and smiled contently.

For a moment, Vejiita opened one eye and looked at the woman crossly. _Stupid female_, he thought to himself. _That ugly wench of a daughter of hers is just as foolish. Bah._

In a gleeful stride, Mrs. Briefs headed back to the lower part of the backyard and sat down at the table. Mr. Briefs enjoyed a good cigar, and their loudmouthed daughter had the audacity to wave at him, the Prince of the Saiyajin.

Vejiita growled. He was in a lousy mood. He couldn't wait till whatever threat that other Super Saiyajin – there were two of them and _he_ still wasn't at that level, damn them – had warned the Chikyuu fighters about two years ago. It would be at least another year. Vejiita definitely wanted another trip out. He sighed angrily. That wench was heavy with his child. How could he have ever let things get out of hand like this? Yes, he had been fully sane when he had knocked her up. But is was more of an experiment, really.

He had seen what power Kakarotto's brat held. He had seen with his own eyes, what potential lay in that half-breed lowclass son of that dimwit Kakarotto. So he'd decided to give it a try, too. Just in case he wouldn't make it a Super Saiyajin, you see. Although of course he'd never admit that. Surely it was relatively easy. All he had to do was shut off his common sense for a while and knock up that woman. And with a little luck he'd get rid of that obnoxious boyfriend of hers, Yamucha, as well. Without even trying, obviously. And it had been easy, for Bulma had fallen for his trap as if she'd been blind. His little scheme worked perfectly. Well, almost.

There was this one teeny tiny problem. For Bulma's grip on him had been more powerful than he'd anticipated. He sneered, looking at the space capsule at the west side of the garden. Then, he smirked and jumped aboard without effort. He'd need some distraction. He couldn't stand sensing how Kakarotto charged up to Super Saiyajin at will, almost as if he did so just to mock him. He couldn't stand not being a Super Saiyajin himself. He couldn't stand how much more human he was getting by staying here. He didn't want to be a human. Humans were _baka_ weaklings, much like Kakarotto. And he was Vejiita, Prince of the Saiyajin.

With a sudden buzz and a loud thunder, the capsule's engine warmed up and the machine took to the sky, leaving an enormous cloud of dust and dirt, wrapping the Sunday picnic the Briefs family was holding in darkness, covering everyone up in smoke and engine residue.

"Vejiita!" Bulma shouted irritably, as she tried to make her way through the smoke, her face covered in dirt. "_Chikusho_! _Kono yogore yo_!"

As Chikyuu was slowly vanishing in the distance from under him, Vejiita sighed with relief. This was just the solitude he needed right now. As he turned on the built-in Gravity Room he put the engine on auto-pilot and begun training. He was glad to be finally left at peace and finally not being chased down with silly waves of an expecting wench as big as a hippopotamus and sickening Shirley Temples. He smirked.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

He had been planning it for years now. Solely getting to know all underground passages near the Citadel of Ryuuguu and charting these channels had taken him nearly two years. Preparations were done now, for tonight, Fall would liberate Fringe and Nita.

He regretted having to lie about it to Uyra but he had no choice. Uyra didn't understand. She didn't understand how thoroughly thought out the escape plan was nor did she understand how much especially Fringe meant to him. Fringe was like the brother he had never had. Fringe reminded him a lot of Summer, the sister he had left behind on Chikyuu. Summer should be of about Fringe's age by now. They were alike. Laidback but opinionated. Even at the age of a snotty kid.

Fall smiled ruefully, he missed the life he had had on Chikyuu. He missed being carefree; the only worry he had was getting a cute date in the weekends or making sure he and fellow team members won the monthly baseball competition. He had been untroubled though protective of his three sisters Spring, Summer and Winter.

He missed them but was glad he at least made sure Winter was safe. To a certain extent, that is. He sighed. He was tired of hiding, he was tired of pretending he was a weakling, he was tired of hiding behind a life he had once had but would never find again.

It wasn't like he was unhappy about the life he lead now. He was glad he had gotten the opportunity of meeting Uyra, and he honestly loved her more than anything possible so he shouldn't be so bothered by a life that had passed him by the moment he had made the decision of sneaking aboard the spaceship that had taken him and a dozen human girls to Chikura-sei, a planet in a galaxy he would never have imagined to have existed in the first place.

With a heavy heart he snuck out that night. He wasn't sure whether Fringe was even still alive but he was sure Fringe could handle the hardships he was confronted with in prison. Fringe had been a strong boy and had grown into an even stronger man. Nothing could break his spirit, a spirit that inspired all rebels, including their leader Uyra. But he wasn't too sure about Nita. He hoped Fringe was somehow close to her.

Compared to Januar, Fringe was a much better leader. Fringe at least thought before plunging into action. With resentment Fall thought back to Januar. He had been insanely jealous of him. Januar was courageous, a strong leader, and he had the one thing Fall had desired most: Uyra. But Uyra was his now, Uyra had chosen to be with him, and he didn't care whether Uyra still thought of Januar. She was with him now. And Januar was dead. It served him right anyway.

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Vejiita was more than pleased now that he'd finally left Chikyuu. That place just gave him the creeps. He felt as if he had to be tiptoeing around all the time. Bulma chased him down everywhere, commanding him, pulling on him, demanding all sorts of bullshit, such as attention or him to rub her feet. That wench could just as easily program a robot to do that for her but she wanted him to do this, the Prince of the Saiyajin! Was she insane? Did she actually think he'd rub her smelly old feet? Did she actually think she was worthy of his attention?

She said it was his duty as a father. Vejiita wasn't a father! Just because she had allowed herself to sleep with him, just because she'd swollen up like a hippo didn't mean he had any responsibility. He wouldn't beat her because she annoyed him, no, she was heavy with child in any case, but his fingers itched more as Bulma swelled further. He hated how everyone of that family was pulling on him. He wasn't part of it, damnit! He didn't want any part of it. And although he was pleased he'd managed to get rid of that idiot Yamucha and his squeaky, nagging little cat, the nagging had not ended. He still had to deal with Bulma and her mother. At least Mr. Briefs didn't give him a hard time, instead, he allowed him as much freedom as he needed. Perhaps that man understood at least part of how horrible it was to live with Bulma. He'd fathered her. A shiver went through him. Bah. Even now he'd left Chikyuu that damned wench was still on his mind. He hated her. He truly did.

With practicing a series of kata he tried desperately to think of other things. A child. That wench was having his child. He didn't remember much of his childhood. He only recalled vague images of a woman standing over his crib, looking at him, softly speaking to him in a low voice. He remembered her face, but only vaguely. Her hair almost the colour of dried blood, her eyes dark and strong. But he didn't remember much more than that. He remembered his sister, but only a fraction of her. All he remembered was the fact father always locked her up. Ever since his mother had died, the King always locked the child up in her room. He remembered how pale she was. He remembered he didn't want anything to do with her. She was illegitimate and weak. And he honestly didn't remember much more than that. He hoped that wench wouldn't give birth to a daughter. He didn't want a daughter. Just as his father hadn't wanted one. Girls were weaklings anyway.

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Fall might not be a fool but he had not anticipated so many security measures. There were no guards, which surprised him, but there was something else that kept intruders at bay. He had not expected a silent alarm. As he entered through a drainage system he managed to come in at the far end of the corridor that led past all prisoner's cells. He walked slowly, expecting at least one or two guards. There were none.

"Fringe, Nita, are you guys in here?"

Fall knew most cells were most likely empty, as there had been a mass execution recently. Fringe and Nita hadn't been part of it, they never were. The Overlord had some other plan for them and Fall wouldn't be waiting to find out what it was.

"Fringe, Nita!"

"You won't find them in here, Human."

Fall jumped, and turned to face whoever was talking to him. He narrowed his eyes angrily.

"Darken…"

"I will not allow anyone to cross me. Especially no weakling Human." Darken held a tiny girl in one of his arms but paid no attention to it.

"Where are Fringe and Nita!"

Darken smirked. "Well, they're not in here." The child in his left hand giggled and her tail swayed around impatiently.

"What did you do to them?" Fall demanded.

Darken breathed. He looked bored. "I'm getting a little tired of this conversation," he said. Slowly, he opened his free hand and let a tiny bulb of energy charge. "_Yasashikatta_. It was nice." The glowing ball sizzled towards him and burned into him. Fall didn't feel a thing, only a tingling sensation. He stared at the Overlord.

"What happened?" he asked.

The Overlord smiled in return. "You're dying."

Before Fall could respond he felt as if he was going to fall apart. He did, literally.

Darken watched him silently, the child in his hand did the same. Then, the Overlord turned and walked away.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Uyra instantly knew when Fall had died. She felt it. She knew she would have to raise their child on her own. And although she felt weak and alone, she kept going. She kept going almost as if the child she carried inside of her told her to. She didn't understand why this happened but she knew this child was incredibly important, not just to her. Something was to happen sooner or later, and she knew her child would have everything to do with it.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Another four and a half years had passed. Vejiita had returned to Chikyuu and had achieved his Super Saiyajin. He had a son now, though at first he had refused to acknowledge it. His son was a weakling. His son looked nothing like him. He looked like that ugly woman, Bulma.

But that changed the day he found out the Super Saiyajin from the future was in fact Trunks, his son. His son was a Super Saiyajin. He still had a lot to learn but then, when Vejiita had been his age he had also made his mistakes, even if he wouldn't admit them openly, not even to his own child. But now, his son from the future had left and he wasn't the least interested in that squirming little shit-factory that was his present son. It did nothing but stumble around like an idiot, drooling and weeping. He wanted nothing to do with it. And yes, that wench nagged about it but he stayed with her. It was his responsibility to keep that damned brat and his demanding mother safe. Saiyajin babies weren't as helpless as this one was but he had asked that woman why the brat was so weak. She said all babies were. And when he had asked her whether Kakarotto's brat had been that weak as well, she'd replied with an answer that pleased him. Yes, Gohan had been just as puny as Trunks was today. Gohan had been afraid of his own shadow. Gohan had been helpless. But today, Gohan was at a level Vejiita could only dream of. Today, Gohan was Super Saiyajin Level Two. Understandably, Vejiita was insanely jealous. And so he trained, day in, day out. He trained, as much as he possibly could. But he didn't get the chance to train always. Bulma had such authority over him she could at least dump that puny little brat with him. And yes, he had to admit he was actually quite fond of the little monster. He hated how helpless it was. He hated how he only had to shove it over to have it cry as if in death agony. But he knew what his son would one day become. His son would be a Super Saiyajin. His son would become stronger than Kakarotto's brat.

Mutely, he watched it. He'd decided to train in the backyard instead of the Gravity Room. He wasn't out because of the beautiful weather. Nor was he out because he wanted to keep an eye on that wench of his. He was simply out to scrutinize his brat son. He wanted to know whether he'd grown stronger. He could walk, and that had been about damned time but what else could he do? Had he any power? Had he any strategic talent?

Bulma watched them quietly, sipping from her cocktail. She smiled at her mother, who sat next to her at the outside terrace table. Vejiita had bought Trunks a gift. Vejiita had bought Trunks an actual gift. Of course, it wasn't exactly a gift Bulma would've wanted her son to have but she'd never expected Vejiita actually cared enough for Trunks to buy him toys. Trunks had been ecstatic when his father had handed him a carefully wrapped box. His father never gave him anything, not even an acknowledging glance. He must've been a really good boy to get such a precious gift from his father.

Bulma took another sip from her drink. Trunks was happily playing with the toy soldiers and war machinery his father had given to him. Happily, he suddenly jumped up, dashed past his mother and grandmother, back inside. Moments later, he returned holding a toy dinosaur in his hands, to play along with his little war.

Vejiita narrowed his eyes. At first he had wanted to interfere but as he looked closer, he saw Trunks actually used the dinosaur similar to the Saiyajin Oozaru artillery. Maybe there was a Saiyajin inside of him after all. He smirked, then continued his kata's.

Trunks looked up to his father. He thought the world of him. As the tiny four-year-old looked up from his toys, he decided to try living up to his father's expectations. Mimicking his moves and sounds; Trunks did his very best to act just like his father.

Vejiita glanced at him, almost as if he wasn't looking.

_Good_, he thought to himself, _now there's a start_.

Maybe, just maybe, Vejiita could get used to living here after all. Just maybe.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: Heh, what a long chapter. If you're fearing this Perfect Warrior might be a Mary Sue don't worry. She won't nearly live up to all the expectations and things they say of her. They say she's incredibly smart but she's not. They say her power is beyond imagination, that isn't true, either. So don't worry. She's made for destruction but that doesn't mean she's all powerful, au contraire.

I also have a reason for skipping years. I for one dread the three years when Vejiita and Bulma get together, more or less. It's been overdone. I feel it's not as significant as many people make it. It's merely a start of something.

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	22. Tale 19 Shape

**BOOK II**  
**"Evil Can Only Exist If You Believe In It"**

Tale Nineteen---Shape---  
**Rating: M**

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Author's Note: Rated M for child abuse. No citrus fruits. Ew!

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The child dashed across the palace halls stridently. The Overlord hadn't taken her with him on his monthly routine inspection of the Councillors he'd appointed to the seven districts of the planet. She'd just be a burden to him if he'd drag her along. She was absolutely unable to live with when bored. She didn't seem very bothered by the many scars on her brow and the sides of her head; she was too young to realize anything was wrong with her. She just ran, as if she was being haunted. Walking down to the lower area of the palace, she moved to where the detention centre was located, where had once been a wine cellar, back in the peaceful days. Today, the planet was basically covered with Detention Centres but none was like this one. The Vizz-Uhn Detention Centre, as this one was called, was a final exit. Most prisoners located at other centres were put to work in the mines or other facilities; those held at the Vizz-Uhn DC were put to death by execution or eventually through mortal combat in the arena Darken was currently having built at the edge of the palace garden. He had always wanted a death arena but had never gotten to it. If the arena would be successful it was likely the planet would be swamped with them in no time. The child was too young to realize what a Detention Centre was, and she was yet to develop any sense of right or wrong. With the Overlord controlling her every move it was unlikely she'd ever be able to tell the difference.

Mostly men were held at this DC, including Fringe. He had been here for little over four years now. He honestly wondered why they were feeding him so well. He suspected something particular was up but he had no idea the answer passed his cell over and over; the infant ran up and down the corridors of the Detention Centre, unaware of whatever this place really was, unaware this place existed because of her. She was only a child but she was also a murderer, oblivious and ignorant ---and perfect.

She was only a child, therefore she could not control herself. She had no idea what she was. And in a sense, she really was but an innocent, ignorant child. However, she was more than just that, so much more. Nervously, she ran back and forth the detention centre, then raced up one of the massive stone staircases, unsure of what to do with the miserable feeling that was taking her over. Fringe watched her. He knew she was the child of Nita's dreams. He wondered where Nita was, and if she was all right. The child paid no attention to him, nor to any of the other prisoners. She was occupied by something else. She was restless, Fringe could tell that much. The child returned one last time, running faster and faster up and down the flight of steps.

One of the moons was full. The two suns were still too bright to have her really feel it but she knew it was the moon doing this to her. She wanted nothing to do with it. And so she ran. Roaming the vast corridors of Ryuuguu, it wasn't long before she decided to explore yet another part that was off-limits to her. She looked at the ceiling across the hall, and smiled when her eyes fell on the guard standing by the solid door that stood in between her and the laboratories she wanted to investigate so badly.

She moved towards the guard without fear, and wiggled around innocently, waiting for him to talk to her.

"You know this area is off-limits, by order of your Lord," the guard said to her.

She smiled at him, showing her teeth, and closed her eyes inoffensively. "Pretty please?" She said so with a voice above suspicion. However, she then stared straight at the man, looking up without respect. "Open the door."

"You know I cannot—"

She gestured him to lean in, as if she was trying to let him in on a little secret. As he bent over, he widened his eyes, shocked. He grabbed for his throat, and fell over. She took the set of keys he held in his pocket, and tried opening the door. When her tiny hands were unable to fit the keys in the keyhole, she put both hands against the door and started pushing, frustrated. When she was also unable to open the door by pushing against it, she ran into it, trying to kick it open with all force she could muster. She fell to the floor, somewhat stupidly. She screamed. She hated everything. She hated the moon the most. It made her weak. She hated being this weak. She hated being like this. She hated everything as she lay there, kicking and screaming, like the helpless little wench she was.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

It was a calm day at the Son House. It was a little bit cloudy, and an occasional shower disrupted the otherwise quiet afternoon in the forest area surrounding the modest residence. The Son's latest addition to the family, Son Goten, sat in the centre of the living room, in his playpen, happily enjoying the set of wooden blocks that had once belonged to his brother Gohan. Although he didn't understand yet what the letters and numbers on the blocks meant, he was easily entertained. ChiChi had no trouble with him, except maybe for his strength and appetite. If young Goten simply smelled a hint of food, he'd break out of his pen before one could say 'Kami what's going on?' or something similar. The strength he held frightened ChiChi, and so she had made an appointment to remove his monkey tail, to make sure she wouldn't have to go through the same trouble she went through with Gohan. Goten had been absolutely devastated when his tail had been removed, and ChiChi regretted she hadn't removed it any sooner. Still, she felt she'd done the right thing, and operating a baby was even riskier than removing the tail now that Goten was a two-year-old. It was for the best, despite Goten's sulking. Today, about three months later, Goten looked like the incident had never happened, and luckily, he was more well-behaved than before. He hadn't given ChiChi any trouble since.

ChiChi woke up out of her thoughts when the phone rang. She wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the hall, where a decent phone had been installed as an anniversary gift from Goku, four years ago. The old phone had been moved to the bedroom, upstairs.

"Moshi, moshi?" she called into the receiver.

"ChiChi-san, it's me, Bulma," came the reply on the other end. "You're probably wondering why I called, since I'm always too busy to make personal calls. You know me, I'm lousy. So what's shakin'?"

ChiChi wasn't too sure what to make of it but she was as good a judge of character to know Bulma wanted something of her.

"I have good and bad days, Bulma. Just like everyone else. So tell me why you've really called," she said, sharply.

"You got me, ChiChi. You're getting too good at this…" Bulma laughed, and ChiChi could tell she was a little nervous. "But anyway," the woman on the other end continued, "I was hoping you could do me a favour—"

"What kind of favour, Bulma? I hope you're not talking about another one of them garden parties, are you?"

Again, Bulma laughed. "No, no, don't worry. Though I was hoping you could take care of Trunks, just till tomorrow morning. I'm having trouble finding a babysitter able to handle him. And I just know you're great with kids. I bet your son will get along fine with mine. But only if it's no trouble, of course. And I'm willing to pay—"

"No chance, Bulma-san. You're not gonna pay me. I'm sure Goten-chan will love the idea. Gohan's been out so much now he's finally in junior high, so I know he'll love the company. So, where are you going anyway, that you can't take him with you?" wondered ChiChi, thinking back to the nights she went out with Goku, way back when he was still around. That was so long ago. ChiChi doubted Gohan even remembered spending nights with his grandfather just so she and Goku could have a night for themselves. Sometimes, she really missed the old days.

"Nothing special, ChiChi-san," Bulma replied, "Just a night alone for me and Vejiita. We really need it. It's a Saturday, and you know mom and dad, they're never home during the weekends." ChiChi nodded absentmindedly, she wasn't really paying attention.

"Well, I'll come over in an hour. I'll bring some of his things as well. He needs some fruit – like a bunch of bananas – at around four, and another snack an hour before it's his bedtime, otherwise he won't possibly sleep for more than three hours straight. I guess I'll explain the rest when I see you, all right, ChiChi?" Bulma chatted on.

"Okay, Bulma. See you later."

"Later!" She sounded rather cheerful to ChiChi, and ChiChi knew how come. She remembered the same nights she had once had with Goku. She really missed the way he had once been, and she missed having him around. There was no fun in being a young widow, that much was certain. She hung up the phone, and headed for the living room. She leaned over the playpen, and her child looked up at her admiringly, chewing one of his blocks. He smiled, drooling.

"Don't chew that building block, Goten-chan. You'll ruin your appetite," she told him. She smiled contently. Goten was so much like his father. She set her arms over the playpen's railing, still smiling, though more out of melancholy than anything else. "A friend's kid will come over. I know you and Trunks will get along just fine. I just know you will. Gohan never had a friend like that. He's a bit of a loner, always has been. Although he's such a fine boy…" ChiChi trailed off, practically forgetting about the meal she was cooking. When the smell of burned potatoes reached the living room, and smoke bellowed into the hall, the woman snapped out of her trance and screamed.

"Aaah! My homemade pie!"

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Vejiita still glared at the airship that vanished in the distance. That wench was horrible, especially today. How she was able to make him stay with her, he didn't know. How she was able to keep him out of the Gravity Room right now, was a mystery. He hated her. Oh, how he hated her. He stomped inside the house, looking for something to eat. The fridge was full of food and beverages but most were either for the baby or low-fat and low-carb for Bulma's diet, which was worthless for Vejiita since it didn't even lull the slightest craving. Why the woman was on a diet, was another mystery. So Vejiita had called her fat and lazy; he called her names all the time! Big deal.

He was starved, well, he felt starved anyway. Somewhat hesitantly, he took one of Trunks' ready-to-eat fruit snacks. He turned away his face wincingly when he opened the jar. Kami, it smelled horrible. Carefully, he took a small bite. Horrified by its repulsive flavour, he set it back in the refrigerator and closed its door immediately as if none of it had ever happened. He turned.

"Curious what I'm always feeding the baby, huh Vejiita?" said Bulma with a pitched voice.

Vejiita didn't know where to look. Bulma laughed.

"Oh I'm only kidding, you dolt. You're no fun," she said, teasingly.

"At least I'm not fat and ugly," Vejiita replied.

"What did you say! _Bakayarou_!" the aquamarine haired woman carped, waving her arms.

Now it was Vejiita's turn to laugh. And he did. He hadn't expected that wench to be back so quickly, and frankly, she hadn't been. It was just that Vejiita had been standing in front of the fridge for over an hour, contemplating whether to take a bite of Trunks' food or not. Vejiita had absolutely no track of time.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Goten stared at the boy his mother had set next to him in the playpen. Puzzled, he gaped at him. He had never seen him in his life. The blue-eyed boy stared back at him, then grew bored of it and clutched the car he had taken with him from the trip down here, driving it around the pen. His grandmother had given the toy to him for his third birthday. Goten smiled suddenly, and grabbed one of Trunks' other toys, a stuffed dinosaur.

"Raa raar raawrr!" said Goten happily. Trunks looked up, glaring. Angrily, he snatched the dinosaur out of Goten's hands and begun playing with it himself. Goten stared for a moment, then took the car Trunks had tossed to the side.

"Vroom vroom," Goten cheered. Again, Trunks looked up, irritably. "Give that back, you baby," he snapped at him. Again, he snatched the toy out of Goten's hands. Goten just stared innocently. He turned his back to Trunks and started building with his wooden blocks, continuing to play, unaware of Trunks' annoyance. Trunks made a face, hopped over to where Goten sat and pushed over the tower Goten had been building, and laughed. This time, Goten had had enough.

"Bad! Bad!" he yelled at the lavender haired tot. "Kaa-chan!"

Hastily, ChiChi came into the living room. "Kaa-chan!" Goten yelled a second time.

"Oh Kami!" ChiChi exclaimed, and she picked up Goten. "Goten, it's your first word! I'm so proud of you." She hugged her son, almost suffocating him. Trunks still glared, unhappy about the amount of attention Goten was getting, and he started to scream. ChiChi smiled.

"Oh you two deserve a treat," she said, and she took two bright red lollipops from the front pocket of her apron. "There you go." Then ChiChi went back to her chores in the kitchen, swollen with pride. She imagined a glorious future for her son. Gohan had taken eight months longer to say his first words, and he was well on his way to become a scholar. She smiled, and vanished out the doorway, into the kitchen.

For the first time, Trunks felt he might be able to like this Goten. He smirked, licking the candy contently. "I'm Trunks," he said, and he reached out a sticky hand. Goten reached out an equally sticky hand, smiling as if overjoyed. He didn't say a word.

"Wanna be friends?" Trunks asked. Goten nodded excitedly.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She still lay there, screaming. She had been doing so for hours. Nobody wished to notice her. Nobody wanted or dared come close. Nobody wished to console her. So she lay there, screaming. It had been three years since that day. The child still wasn't allowed beyond the Ryuuguu borders, nor anywhere near the research quarters. But it couldn't keep away. It couldn't keep away even if it wanted. The Overlord paid no attention to her. It seemed he was preoccupied with something else. And she had no idea what it was. She stood by the door. The guard had backed down; he knew there was no chance against her. He knew there was no way for him to stop her. Only the door could. The solid door was strong. She was weak. And nobody cared much about her. However, she somehow had the ability to kill living things on spot, without effort. The guard kept a careful distance because of it.

The Creation was a strange child, controlled – perhaps held back – by something nobody could tell. Darken had grown bored of her. It wanted nothing, did nothing, and kept out of his way. She didn't know why she avoided him, as he was the only one who had the slightest interest in her, and that was more than she got from anyone else. She brushed sweat from her face as her other hand touched the solid door. This place had everything to do with it. The moon was only like a vague memory to her. The moon was but an symptom. Something lay beyond this door, something that kept her from everything, kept her from even being able to stand up straight. It pushed on her shoulder, weakened her, every single day.

She closed her eyes and breathed in and out. Then, with all the strength she could muster, she pushed against the door. She pushed and pushed, soon using both hands. She wanted to know. She had been ignorant for too long. She wanted to know what was keeping her from feeling free. She felt so imprisoned, so weakened, as if she didn't really exist. She pushed, kept pushing. She refused to stop, even when her arms and legs began to shake.

"Tacris," the guard in the distance said to her. She looked at him, and stopped pushing.

"What?"

"Tacris Yamnar, I'll open the door for you."

"Please don't call me that. And why should you help me?" She put her small hands akimbo, staring indignantly.

"Because he's using you. He's doing with you as he pleases. He's doing this on purpose," he said, slowly approaching her. His black eyes looked at her. He was young, she could tell, but he was also an adult. She was only a child, and a petite one at that.

"Darken?" she asked.

"Yes, Darken." Uncomfortably, he searched for the right key, taking out the wrong ones twice. The third time he tried the door opened. He smiled at her, nervously. She smiled back.

"I'll remember you," she said. He knew she would. Even at that age, she never forgot anything worth remembering.

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Goten wanted nothing but to be just like his brother. His brother was a hero to him. But when Gohan-san had gotten into high school, his time had grown more and more limited. Gohan had to divide his time between studying and keeping various cities safe, including the vast Satan City. Goten had been absolutely thrilled the day he had found out of all people his big brother Gohan was the Great Saiyaman, the hero everyone in the neighbouring cities spoke of! And so Goten wanted to be even more like his brother.

He imitated Gohan's Saiyaman poses all day, and he had even made a song for Gohan.

"Great Saiyaman, Great Saiyaman," Goten would cheer, "Save the day, save the world, Great Saiyaman!" Gohan tried to pay attention to him, but it was hard. He had only just gotten the hang of this, and he wasn't even in his senior class! He was barely sixteen. Sixteen year olds shouldn't have to babysit, keep the city safe, and study! But then, Gohan didn't really have much of a choice but to divide his attention. One day, he'd manage to combine it all.

With his brother Gohan being away so much the young child began to think.

One day, he had asked his mother about his father but she had only sobbed over the stove, attempting not to hear him, as if she was too occupied cooking dinner for her boys. His father had died, apparently even before he was born. He remembered nothing of his father. There was a picture of him by the fireplace. It was a picture that had been taken when Gohan was even younger than Goten. Still, Goten was too young to see how much he looked like him. Goten had no idea what to think of his father. His father was dead. He didn't even know what that word meant. He hoped his brother would be home soon. He was definitely going to ask his brother. Gohan-san knew everything.

"Kaa-chan," he said as he stood in the kitchen's doorway.

"Mhh?" ChiChi replied, not caring to look at him.

"When will _niisan_ be home?"

"Any minute, dear," said ChiChi.

"_Yosh'_" Goten called. After a moment, Goten started to walk around nervously. Gohan hadn't come home yet. The phone rang. His mother answered. He tried to listen carefully, and could discern his brother's voice on the other end of the line. He wasn't coming.

When his mother hung up the phone he looked up to her expectantly.

"I'm sorry Goten, your brother is running late. There's been a robbery at the Satan City Bank. If you want to, we can spar a little after dinner. Gohan asked me to take over for him. Just this once."

Goten pouted. "But he said the same that last time."

ChiChi kneeled, looking at her youngest. "I know that, sweetie. I know that." Disappointed, Goten hugged his mother. He really missed his brother. And a father.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

What she saw somehow frightened her. She knew this place. She had seen it in her dreams, she had known, but not consciously. She would never have thought the place was real. Her entire body trembled, and she was too helpless to clench her fists. She didn't want any of this to be real. The cruel experiments, the unremitting incisions in her brain, nonstop electro-shock treatment as if she were some sort of beast, the concoctions and medication that made her ill for weeks and weeks, none of it could be real. It couldn't be real! It wasn't supposed to be. But it was, the moment she had stepped into the first of the research facilities she knew. She knew the horrific nightmares were more than just dreams, for they were memories; god awful memories.

She fell to the ground and cried. She cried, like a vulnerable child. And in a way, she was. Frightened, not wanting to see anymore, she held her hands to her face. She was still crying. Although she had grown older, she hadn't grown immune to the torture. Unable to figure out what to do next, she wept uncontrollably.

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ChiChi occasionally trained her youngest son. She realized he wasn't as smart as Gohan was. She also realized he was more like Goku than even she was willing to admit. And so she trained him the basics of martial arts. But his resemblance of Goku wasn't the only reason. Yes, Goten loved to spar, however, Goten was being bullied and teased at school. He was four years old now, and none of the kids wished to play with him. Although his Saiyajin tail had been removed practically the day he was born, the other children knew he was different. And oddballs were never accepted. So they teased him, to the point he didn't even want to go to school anymore. To the point he beat up one of his bullies. Son Goten had no idea how strong he was. Son Goten was unable to control his temper. He had been kicked off school for this incident. Usually, children were given a second chance when beating up a classmate but Goten hadn't just beaten up one of his classmates, he had beaten up his teacher, Mr. Oni, as well. To say the least, Mr. Oni was definitely not a feather weight, and he was a man with a widespread influence, reaching beyond the South-East district, all the way beyond the massive Satan City.

Instead of looking for another school, ChiChi decided to home tutor her son till he'd be ready for junior high. She taught him what she knew of martial arts, and life, and he honestly loved her lessons, especially the martial arts. He was good at it, too. Better than Gohan had ever been at that age. Honestly, training her youngest like this, made her forget about Goku a little. She definitely needed the distraction, as did Goten. It was just a few weeks past his seventh birthday, and ChiChi had suspected something was up for months.

The sun shone, and only a few clouds in the distance indicated the shower that had earlier refreshed the dry grass on which they stood. ChiChi held up her fists, Goten kept them alongside his body. He smiled. ChiChi could tell he was up to something.

"Quit fooling around, Goten-kun!" she yelled at him. She charged up and lunged for him. As she dashed across the field, drops of a past rain flew up. She pulled one hand back, straightened her palms and dove for her son.

Goten smirked, and avoided his mother's attempts in hitting him. He back-flipped, and landed on one knee. Unexpectedly, his mother moved around him, punching him in his back, knocking the breath out of him.

Goten fell forward face down, into the dirty, worn out grass. He started to cry.

"Oh come on, Goten-kun. Don't be such a cry-baby," she said. The boy rubbed his eyes, wiping the dirt from his face. He glared, not caring to turn around and face his mother.

"I'm not a cry-baby, kaa-chan."

"You're not?" she replied, challenging him. "Why not show me?"

He turned, suddenly smiling widely. "Hai!" He balled his hands into fists, closed his eyes, and focused all his energy.

ChiChi however, wasn't planning on letting her child win so easily. If she really wanted to teach him anything, she had to be a candid teacher.

So she punched him again.

Goten screamed and jumped up, faster than ChiChi would have expected. He glared at his mother, but there was more to his angry face. ChiChi couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something to his glare, something deeper. An aura spat from the boy, and he continued screaming. His eyes begun to flash, and his hair started floating suddenly. His mother didn't know what she was witnessing, she didn't even want to know.

He continued screaming, then smiled. His hair was golden, his eyes the brightest of green. ChiChi now screamed; Son Goten had attained Super Saiyajin. He was barely seven years old.

"No!" cried ChiChi, and she sank to the ground. "Not another monster! Not my youngest! Kami, no! My son is a monster—" ChiChi sobbed. And ChiChi still sobbed at the end of the day, holding Goten in her arms. He didn't understand but promised his mother to never do that in front of her ever again. She also made him promise not to tell Gohan, at least, not yet. Son Goten had thought ChiChi would be proud, but she was not. He didn't understand. All he wanted was to be like his brother, so she would be proud of him. He really didn't understand.

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It took her years to get over it. The rage welling in her heart was unnatural. The rage welling in her heart should not exist in someone so young. She was unable to control herself, unable to stop the screaming torture inside of her. So she destroyed, she destroyed because it was all she could. There was nothing else for her. No consolidation, no love, no attention, she got none. Love was bad for her, love poisoned her, and the reason she got none was because she did not deserve anyone's. She was a failure, a weakling. As long as she was unable to control the rage inside of her, as long as she was unable to seek for a way to grow stronger, to not destroy randomly, she would never get anything except an occasional beating.

Today was such a day. Darken had beaten her up for no particular reason. And he kept beating, punching and kicking. He didn't stop, only beat her harder when she begged him to stop. Her head spun, and she felt as if she could no longer move. Her left eye was blinded by all the blood that had run in it, and her temples were swollen and battered. Her lips were thick and sore. She felt something inside of her hurt, almost as if something lived deep inside. It felt like a monster, like something she should not release.

But she saw no other way. He would kill her if she didn't fight back. He beat her with his baton, throwing her across the practice chamber. The floor was cold, and pulled on her skin.

She screamed for him to stop. She begged for him to let her go. She wished he would just kill her. All she wanted was a little bit of love.

And then it happened. The dragon inside of her woke up.

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Vejiita sat in brooding silence. Suspended on a ledge, leaning his back comfortably against the old weeping willow that had likely already been there long before he was born, he pinched his nose in irritation. The sun had set a solid half-hour ago but the glint of reds and purples was still there. Chikyuu sunsets didn't differ much from their Vejiita-sei equivalents. He had managed to stay on Earth this long, and honestly, he wasn't planning on leaving. Not anymore, anyway.

He had often wondered what it was that made the half Saiyajin so powerful --- more powerful than their full-blooded cousins. When he was younger, he had been confronted with half-breed freaks on varied occasions. Most only had a slight hint of Saiyajin left in them, and the lot of them was never worth much more than any average low-class soldier. So what made these half Human _taints_ any better? Vejiita thought he knew the answer, but he wasn't ready for it yet. Saiyajin were in many ways very different from Humans, especially the way they were raised, Vejiita knew that now. He was appalled by the amount of attention and love that brat Trunks needed ---no--- demanded. Saiyajin children were taught to avoid emotion, they were taught to suppress it at all costs and honestly, Saiyajin children didn't need to be pampered, the word didn't even exist in the Saiyajin vocabulary. Even the Saiyajin way of marriage through bonding had little to do with emotion, and everything to do with instinct. The Saiyajin were just not built for emotion. But then, why did achieving Super Saiyajin have so much to do with just that --- with emotion? And was the reason Humans were so in touch with their emotions – for lack of a better description except maybe that Humans were weeping, weakling imbeciles – the very explanation for the strength of these half-human/half-Saiyajin children, such as Gohan and Trunks? And – which was even more preposterous – the reason he, Prince Vejiita, was unable to surpass Kakarotto, that weakling _baka_, simply because Kakarotto thought he was _Human_? It made so little sense it almost had to be true.

Thinking of just that, he remembered his mother all too well, and his sister. They were chopped from the same tree. The both of them were emotionally expressive, and unlike any Saiyajin woman Vejiita had ever seen they were not ashamed to be that way. They didn't seem to mind they were outcasts, and Vejiita's mother hadn't even held it against her mate when he had rejected their first child on the account she was too much like _her_ and openly admitted it an extramarital birth. In a way that had been true, since the woman had not been officially crowned his Queen at the time. The Prince sighed. He still wasn't sure what had happened to his mother, and honestly, he didn't know much about her, except for the rumours. Word had it she was powerful, very powerful. He didn't understand back then, since she appeared too feeble and female – almost like a Human or any other puny species – to him. But he feared he did understand now. His mother was closer to awakening the ancient legacy of the Super Saiyajin than he or his father had ever been at the time. But something had held his mother back, and he thought he knew what it was; it was Vejiita no Ou. He would've lost all credibility, especially at the time of their deal with Furiiza; they would have deposed their king had his woman proven more powerful than him. Yes, the Queen was strong, strong enough to comply to her mate's wishes.

He knew why she had died.

About a year before he was born, had the King sworn his fealty to Furiiza, much to his woman's discontent. However, King Vejiita had had to choose between listening to his Royal Advisors and his mate, and he had faultily chosen the former. It was mere time after Vejiita had been born when the queen had decided to confront either Furiiza or Cold himself, and attempt to talk the Saiyajin free from the straining contract; likely it were her pregnancy hormones at play. What part was true, Vejiita didn't know. He had only heard bits and pieces from Nappa, who was the Queen's personal shield since years. Nappa may have been a fool, but he was more than a half-decent minion. Nappa had tried stopping her, so in any case, Nappa was also a failure. He let her go, much like the King had let her. However, the King was blind to it all, and Nappa was not. Nappa had tried all within his power to stop the Queen in her suicide mission against none other than Furiiza's father, King Cold. She had simply knocked Nappa out in a face-to-face clash. When Nappa had admitted it to him, Vejiita had heartily laughed at his Protector. What good was a guard who couldn't even withstand a woman's punch? That aside, the Queen went on her way, and nothing was heard from her since; it was only assumed she was murdered ---either by Furiiza, Cold himself or one of their henchmen.

She had known this was a suicide mission, but she had gone anyway. She would never come back, and Vejiita had known, despite his young age. He had known. Whatever it was that was the matter with his mother, her emotions had been both her strength and her weakness. Her sincere love for the Saiyajin, and the foolish King Vejiita, had caused her death. Her emotional tantrums had also proven she was at the edge of Super Saiyajin. Vejiita had known all along, as had his unwise father. But the both of them had been too damned proud to admit it. In a way, that wench Bulma reminded him of his mother, for the Saiyajin no Joou was as crabby and emotional as she. Yes, Vejiita didn't like to think of his family since the only thing close to a family he had had in his childhood had been Nappa, and no one else. Nappa had been an idiot. Nappa had deserved to die. He didn't need him anymore. Vejiita knew why he was thinking back to his mother. It was because he had a family now, and his mother had told him once nothing was more important than family, not even a victory in battle. He had always remembered it, but would never come to believe it; or so he thought. He wasn't too sure now, not anymore. The Saiyajin were dead, they had not died at the hands of Furiiza; they had died because of their own foolish pride. Maybe there was some truth in that, and now he thought about it, it looked like his mother had seen it coming years before her time. She had been much wiser than Vejiita had thought as a child, or even as an adolescent. It had taken him this many years in a docile place like Chikyuu to realize. She had held the traces behind the how of Super Saiyajin. It was ridiculous to think it, and definitely not like him, but he couldn't shake the feeling it did make sense; the first Super Saiyajin to have ever walked the universes had been a woman, after all. Unfortunately, Vejiita had to admit there was some truth in this.

Had that woman ---Bulma--- been his trigger to attain this level? It was too preposterous to even think it. On the other hand, the link of emotion and Super Saiyajin was too obvious to ignore.

The Saiyajin no Ouji stood, and folded his arms. He was a Super Saiyajin himself but only after he'd admitted to his fondness for Bulma. Was it true? Did attaining Super Saiyajin have so much to do with love? Had it more to do with love than anger? Perhaps, deep down, this was true. But Vejiita just wasn't ready for the truth yet. He laughed scornfully, then took to the sky.

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"Mother, why can't I go outside?" the girl asked.

Uyra looked at her daughter, smiling ruefully. "You know why, Aera," she replied.

"But I want to see the suns. I want to be able to feel the warmth on my skin. I want to be able to see what's out there."

Her mother shook her head. The child could be as hard-headed as her father sometimes. "Trust me, Aera, you can't go outside. It isn't safe."

The girl excused herself and left, she wasn't in the mood to argue with her mother. All she wanted to get to know the outside world. She wanted to know what else was out there. She grabbed her stuffed dragon, and looked at it. It was a red dragon, with big, bright-blue eyes. She installed herself on her bed of dried grass and the quilt her mother had woven for her and sighed.

"What do you think, Murass-san?" she asked the stuffed animal.

"I think you should wait another year. Listen to your mother for as long as she is still around. Another year, and time will stand still. That's what I think. But what do I know, I'm stuffed with fluff," the dragon replied, without moving its lips.

"I guess you're right, Murass. You're always right anyway. But what about next year? What if I'm alone?" She wondered, removing a lock of her pale hair from her face, and putting it back in her crooked ponytail. She set the dragon down, waiting for an answer.

"Next year's worries are for next year. Come on, let's meditate for a while." Then, the stuffed animal kept quiet, just laying there.

Aera meditated, and it looked rather peculiar to watch a child so young meditate as if she did nothing else all day. Honestly, there wasn't much else to do in the catacombs deep in Mount Galaness. Well, except maybe talking to a stuffed pet.

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Author's Note: Vejiita scenes are difficult to write, I tell you. He's an ass with a complicated, emotional mind. Yes, finally a scene with Uyra's daughter in it, and she does seem loony, doesn't she? Ha. What did you think of Goten and Trunks meeting? The touch of Goten's first words being addressed to Trunks seemed nice enough at the time. And I like how bratty and spoiled Trunks is. Just like a certain someone else. #cough#Vejiita#cough#

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	23. Tale 20 Saiyajin Heritage

**BOOK II**  
**"Evil Can Only Exist If You Believe In It"**

Tale Twenty---Saiyajin Heritage--- **  
Rating: T**

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Trying to wiggle out of his grip, the child grew weary. It was still too young to be able to handle such powers. Perhaps it was jealousy that moved Darken, perhaps it was something else. Whatever it was, it had Darken by the throat. Something had happened, and it had not foreboded much good. Tacris Yamnar had changed. She wasn't being held back anymore, as if exploding with power, she had conjured the dragon slumbering inside of her. And it had not been just any dragon. This dragon was stronger than Gular's had ever been. And yet, the child had not attained any level near Ryoku Gular. The Overlord knew he had created some Perfect Warrior the moment she let out that shattering scream, and released that dragon. This was a strength not to be meddled with and yet, something assured Darken that he should. Whatever it was, it convinced him to put an end to this. This child was a hazard. Darken suddenly felt overpowered by a sense of queasiness, and he let himself drop to the cold marble floor. With a loud thud, the child he'd been holding by the tail fell, and crawled away in pain. Her face was covered in blood, and her tiny shirt was soaked. Her hands were inflamed, as were her arms and legs. She was crying, and tears ran down her cheeks. She was believably upset.

Darken tried to breathe, and closed his eyes in a sudden flash of pain. He grabbed for his temples, attempting to hold on to something unknown.

"Get out!" he screamed. "Get out of my head! Leave me alone!"

Frightened, the child crawled in one of the chamber's corners. She looked up with a terrified face, unable to move. Darken continued to scream, almost as if he was entangled in some deadly battle.

"Get away from me! You cannot destroy everything! You cannot take her over, she's too much. Too much!"

Whatever it was the Overlord was talking about, he was obviously combating himself, or otherwise something inside of him. What it was, the child did not understand. She was too young to understand. Hesitantly, she crawled in his direction. As she came close, he looked up to her, and unlike his usual scowl, Darken looked genuinely hurt. The anguish she saw in his face did not alarm her, only made her want to end it. She reached out her tiny arms and embraced him. It was likely the first hug Darken had ever gotten in his life. It was what saved him.

He stood, still holding the child in his arms. Marching down to one of the bigger research facilities, he slammed the door shut behind him. Scientists gauged at him, saluting, unsure of what to think.

"Get rid of them," he said to them, not talking to any of the scientists in particular. His face was sweaty, his cheeks flushed with exertion.

"Get rid of what, lord?" asked one of the elder scientists, brushing his grey hair backwards.

"Her horns. I want them removed. As quickly as possible."

"But Lord, we'll have to prepare an anaesthetics first, and examine how we best remove them," the scientists argued.

"I don't care about your science babble! Chop them off for all I care. Do it now!" the Overlord barked.

The child kept her eyes shut. She knew he was talking about her. She knew he had betrayed her. It was the last straw. He did not love her, did he? Was there anyone who did? Would there ever be anyone who'd really care? Tears welled in her eyes, and she tried hard to fight them back. She didn't want to be alone. She had never wanted to be alone.

"Please don't let them take me," she begged him. "Please, don't let them take me!" she screamed. "_Onegai_! _Onegaaaaii_!"

He simply ignored her, and handed her over to one of the research assistants. She tried to hold on to him but he just removed her grip without blinking. He was that cold. He didn't care what happened to her. He really did not care.

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Goku really enjoyed himself in the afterlife. The tournaments, the endless time for training and sparring sessions; it really felt like heaven for him. He could battle as often as he wished, all day long, without ChiChi nagging at him to help her with the groceries, or to spend a night just sitting on the couch with her like – according to ChiChi – all married couples did. He did miss Gohan, and he also did miss ChiChi – especially her cooking – but this place was like heaven. He learned so many new techniques! He loved it here!

Not only had he learned how to do a Fusion Dance, he had also somehow achieved a higher level than before. He called it 'Super Saiyajin level three' and although it was a strenuous transformation, his strength increased quite unbelievably.

He did wonder a bit how his friends were doing. He wondered how Kuririn was doing, and whether ChiChi had had her baby yet. He wondered whatever had happened to Mirai Trunks, and whether Vejiita had come around yet. But most of the time, Goku did not worry at all, and thought only of his endless time for training. Heaven definitely was a place worth checking out, he knew that now.

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Kuririn was the happiest man on Chikyuu. He honestly couldn't imagine anyone luckier than he. He was a father! He, of all people, was a father! He had not believed his luck the day Juuhachi-gou stood in front of the door of the Kame House, asking for him. He had not believed his luck the day she had said those faithful words 'I do' in that small chapel on the Kame Beach. And now, now she had given him a healthy daughter. Her name was Marron, and he loved her as much as he loved Juuhachi. He could not be happier. To Kuririn, life could not be any more miraculous than this.

Speaking of miracles, Tenshinhan had since long figured out he and Lunch would never be husband and wife. However, the day she gave him a daughter, in a hazy November night, he had decided against his lifelong plea. He had been travelling around with Chaozu for years, and she often visited them but now it was time for him to settle down. His daughter was as beautiful as her mother, with the same big eyes, and the deep blue hair. She was also as mysterious as she, and as insane, though he would never word such thoughts. He honestly loved his daughter, and that was the main reason he and Chaozu decided to travel around less than before. Tenshinhan wanted to get to know his daughter. Tenshinhan wanted to be there for her, always. Her name was Ziyuu, and he loved every inch of her.

Not far from their happiness, a little deeper into the woodlands lay an abandoned little cabin. Well, it had been abandoned for years but by the looks of it someone did live there. His hair was raven black, his eyes as pale as a spring morning's fog. It was the only place were he was safe from those he hated the most. He hated every Human, hated the scent of them, the thought of them, everything. He wished to be nothing like them but he had once been the same. That was a long time ago. His life had been full of hardships and he wasn't sure he could really be happy. He didn't believe he would ever be. His life had been about destruction, sheer, wanton destruction. But that, too, was a long time ago. He lived, day by day, loving only the smell of gunpowder vaporising in the night sky, and the spinning tires of his old pick-up. He wanted nothing else. How he got by? He paid his rent by chopping down some trees for a local furniture factory, and that was about it. He didn't need much more, except maybe gas for his truck and an occasional load of gunpowder.

Yamucha made an absolute fortune as a baseball player. He had a huge mansion in the country, and a penthouse uptown, he dated the most beautiful girls, and drove a different sports-car every single day. But to call him happy was a bit too much. In fact, Yamucha hated how empty his life was. The happiest days had been way back when he was still a teenager and spent his nights drinking, laughing and loving with Bulma. But he had no regrets, either. He was happy with his independence, he was happy the way he was. And he still had Puaru with him. As long as his lifetime best friend was there, what was there to complain about?

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The child was never the same after the incident. Her horns were removed, as was her tail. They took everything from her, and left her with nothing. She just sat quietly in her room, each day. She never came out, never wished for anything anymore. She stayed there for months. She stayed there until Darken was sick of it. He just barged in one day and dragged her out. Pulling her by her hair, out of the palace, past the ponds, into the arena, tossing her in the sand.

"This is it," he said to her.

"What is?" she snapped back, looking at him haughtily.

He smirked. "You'll see." He turned and left, his crimson red cape fluttering behind him, lashing at his calves.

She sat there, just waiting. She was too damned curious to leave. She wanted to know what that bastard was talking about. The moons were out, all three of them. And it was just that moment her tail grew back. She felt as if she had changed suddenly, she felt like never before. What was that tail all about anyway? None of the others had any.

She touched her tail awkwardly, not sure she should be pleased or angry it had decided to regenerate. She felt less deteriorated somehow, as if part she had lost had come back to her. She smiled. Her smile faded however, when one of the gates opened, and bright top lights were switched on, blinding her. Covering her eyes, she tried to get used to the light, tried to see what was coming through the gates. She never saw it coming.

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Given a first glance, Son Goten seemed a happy child. He had never seen his father, but now that he was seven he was more occupied with playing, and chasing his big brother and big example, Son Gohan. Gohan had often told him bedtime stories, but Gohan was too busy nowadays. Goten had difficulty accepting just that. His mother did give him a lot of attention, and he was too young to realize what a strain he was on her. Goten needed constant attention. He had to feel appreciated all the time, or he'd burst into fits of temper and fury. Son Goten did seem to be a happy child but only on the surface. Deep down, so much more was going on. Goten missed having a father. During the first few years it hadn't made much of a difference, since Gohan was always there for him. Now however, Gohan was building a life of his own, and ChiChi knew this. She understood. She wasn't too sure, however, Goten understood as well. Goten had such a hard time accepting the fact Gohan wasn't going to be around as much anymore. When he was younger, Gohan paid attention to Goten, and him alone. ChiChi was grateful Gohan was willing to spend so much time with his little brother, and Goten— he loved the attention. That all started to change the day Gohan met Videl. Videl was a girl in his class. She was a striking girl, a tomboy with big, bright eyes. She was also a city-girl, which had worried ChiChi at first. But ChiChi had grown to love Videl like the daughter she had never had. Whenever Videl was around, Gohan was unable to keep his eyes off the girl and focus on his little brother. Goten was such a sweet kid. He never held it against Gohan. And honestly, Goten loved Videl.

ChiChi sighed as she looked out the window. Trunks and Goten were sparring a little, out on the lawn by the Son House. Trunks would be staying over. Bulma had just called in to ask if it would be okay since she wanted a night alone for her and Vejiita ---again. ChiChi didn't mind. Trunks may be a bit of a brat but he brought out the spark in Goten she hadn't seen in him since Gohan had taken up his task as the Great Saiyaman, to protect the Satan City, the South-East District, and even beyond. Trunks was a bit rough on her son but she knew he could handle him. She had trained him herself.

And the both of them were Super Saiyajin. Slowly, but only slowly, ChiChi was getting used to two golden haired warriors sparring out in the front lawn. Trunks and Goten were so happy together.

"Want some more, huh, Goten?" Trunks shouted at his friend.

"Bring it on!"

"No you bring it on, you little wimp!" Trunks yelled.

Goten laughed, then charged for his friend. Trading punches and kicks, and almost falling over, they ended up entangled in each other's clothes. Laughing loudly, they dropped to the soft grass, looking up to an almost flawless evening sky.

"Trunks-kun, where do you think my father is?" the Son asked. Trunks folded his hands behind his head, gazing up at the clouds gathering in the distance.

"I dunno. Maybe you should look for him?"

"Gohan says he's in heaven. How should I get there, you think?" Goten wondered.

"Ha, that's easy," Trunks replied, "You die, and you just go there."

"Really?" Goten looked at his friend, who nodded. "I guess if I wanna find my dad I should die, then."

Trunks laughed. "Of course not, silly! You shouldn't die for a long time. We still have tons to do."

Goten smiled, and nodded, clenching one fist. "Right!"

"You're a _baka_, Goten Son," Trunks said teasingly, sitting up. Goten jumped at that, arguing. "No, I'm not!" he shouted, and pushed his friend, toppling him over. The both of them powered up to Super Saiyajin.

_There they go at it again_, thought ChiChi, and she smiled to herself.

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A woman neared her, her hair pale and her features slim and lean. Her nose was long, her cheekbones high. She smiled at her.

"You should know it's not too late," she said to her.

"Too late for what?" the girl asked, still shielding her eyes from the blinding light.

The woman giggled. "Don't you know?" Shamefully, the child shook her head, her tail lashing behind her angrily.

"You have a choice, you see. And the decision's really up to you." Said the woman.

"What choice? What _fucking_ decision!" she barked at her.

The woman remained calm, and approached her without fear. "The choice of right or wrong. It's been inside of you all this time. If only you could see—"

"I don't see," the girl shouted, "That's the entire point!" She frowned, turning away the woman's gesture as she reached out her hand. "Who are you anyway?"

"You know who I am, but I wish for you to see it."

"Quit it with your riddles. Tell me your name!" the girl shouted, brushing a strand of carmine hair out of her face. "Just tell me what you want from me." The girl almost seemed to grow desperate in her plea.

"All I want is for you to see there are different paths, different choices. All you need to do is open your eyes—"

"Just shut up!"

Uyra knew what she was doing was dangerous. Creeping in someone else's head, in someone's dreams no less was a dangerous undertaking. Especially when it came to the tottering mind of a tortured child, a child with nothing to fall back to, no one to turn to. But she went through with it anyway. This child did not deserve such a fate, this child deserved to be free, as did her own daughter. And in a way, this child was also her own. She felt it in every inch of her bones. She felt it in her heart. Even if this was but a dream, in a dream one could be injured, one could even die. But Uyra looked beyond that. Fear never even crossed her mind.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I only wish to help you."

The child glared at the woman. "The lot of you already 'helped' me. I don't need your help. I don't need anyone," she snapped.

The woman came even closer, and enclosed her fingers over the necklace she carried around her neck. She pulled it over her head, then reached out her arms, and slid the jewel over the girl's head. The woman opened her eyes to look at the child. It was just then she realized what had happened.

The girl had slashed Uyra's neck open in one quick move. She just stared at the woman, then looked at the necklace, then back at the woman. Her face revealed nothing, no remorse, no regret, not even a sense of right or wrong.

Uyra slowly sank to her knees. She had been aware of the risk, though never had she thought a child could ever be a murderer. She had been wrong. This child knew not what she had done. This child knew not she had done something that was wrong.

"_Gante ludis Yamuna Tacra dineh so_," Uyra stammered. "Go the way of your heart, child. Good or evil, you are Yamuna Tacra, the Touch of Death." Whether she really said it, or it was the child's imagination didn't matter. When the child took a step back, Uyra collapsed, and the sand of the arena turned bloodred for the very first time. It would not be the last. Yamuna Tacra, the Touch of Death, had been born. A decision had been made, willingly or unwillingly, it did not matter.

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Chikyuu's spring of the year 774 had been one full of turmoil. A creature named Majin Buu that had been slumbering in the planet's sphere for an age had been reawakened by the evil magician Babidi. Everything changed after that. It was as if it made half the world rethink their relationships, hopes and dreams. It changed a lot for Vejiita, Prince of the Saiyajin, as well. Where before he had reluctantly stayed at the Capsule Corp. Mansion, now he willingly dedicated his life to being his family's protector. He spent much more time with his son, finally accepting him as one of his own, a powerful Saiyajin. But that was not all, he made a habit out of calling Bulma by her name. Before he had only called her woman, or wench, now he sometimes just called her 'Bulma'. Vejiita had apparently accepted the Saiyajin were gone, he had accepted life on Chikyuu, just the way it was. He had accepted it was okay to be happy.

Goku would never change, everyone knew that but for a while there, ChiChi almost believed he had. He stayed home, being a devoted father to both Gohan and Goten. He didn't even train as much as he used to, except for an occasional squabble with Vejiita of course. Sometimes, he even sparred with his youngest, Son Goten. However, he never really got to sparring with Gohan anymore. Gohan was preoccupied finishing college, and becoming a scholar. Gohan married his Videl but it was not easy to win her over. True, she loved Gohan, and had done everything to make him hers but she had to get used to living a life less on the edge and more as a mother. Nonetheless, their daughter Pan made the life of any mother edgy enough to keep even Videl on her toes.

When Juuhachi-gou had blackmailed Mr. Satan into giving her twenty million zeni for deliberately losing in the 25th Tenkaichi Budoukai, she had never thought being a millionaire was so hard. The family never moved out of the Kame House, and it was difficult to stuff all the new equipment, clothes and gadgets into such a small house. It was even harder not to spoil Marron rotten. Juuhachi did stay in shape, occasionally sparring with her husband, Kuririn, but Marron was shielded away from combat. She seemed more interested in ponies, boys and fashion anyway. But Marron's life wasn't one without trouble. Born without a nose, it wasn't easy for her to fit in with her classmates. They laughed at her, mocked her, called her names. They were plain mean to her. Juuhachi-gou and Kuririn didn't know what to do about the situation, and their daughter's growing sadness. Juuhachi dragged Marron to every doctor she could find, hoping for a way to have Marron get a nose. They had enough money for an operation but things weren't that simple. Marron was yet to mature. At age thirteen she was just still too young to undergo plastic surgery, no matter how much Juuhachi-gou threatened the specialists. One night, Kuririn and Juuhachi-gou discussed the possibility of gathering the Dragon Balls to wish for a nose. But what to do with the second wish the dragon Shenlon would provide? Juuhachi nor Kuririn had thought about that. But Juuhachi knew there was one last thing she desired. By the time they had gathered the seven dragon balls, Marron was overjoyed. She knew there was a chance the dragon wouldn't be able to fulfill her wish but she couldn't help but be happy. Marron got her wish, and her nose. As for the second wish, Juuhachi-gou wished for her brother to be happy, wherever he was. Shenlon however, explained to her he could not play with free will. If it was Juunana-gou's fate to be unhappy, so beit. Shenlon could provide Juuhachi's brother with an endless amount of wealth, beautiful women and a lifelong subscription to every dirty book in the world but he could not force him into anything. If none of these things could make him happy, Shenlon could not help him.

"But I only wish to see him once more," Juuhachi-gou had said, stubbornly. Nevertheless, the dragon never yielded and had replied with a short answer.

"Such is up to you. I am but a dragon."

And so Juuhachi-gou had told Shenlon to keep his wish. If he could not fulfill this one final wish, she had everything she could ever have wished for. As the great dragon grew impatient, Juuhachi had growled at him and simply made a second wish; she wished for a nice haircut, and that was the end of it. And Marron, Marron finally had her nose.

Standing by her through all the name-calling and bullying was a close friend of Marron's, Son Goten. Where Trunks Briefs had ignored the girl and her bullies simply to keep his good high school reputation, Son Goten had ignored whichever reputation he had and had supported her through it all. But when Marron got her nose, her ego skyrocketed. Dating boy after boy, the close friendship she had once shared with Goten watered down. And what about Trunks? Trunks was glad to have his best friend back. Marron had made Goten into some sort of goody two shoe, like the Great Saiyaman and his faithful companion, the Great Saiyaman 2. Trunks was a spoiled brat. As was his sister, the youngest member of the Briefs family, Bura. Bura was a sweet girl, who had wrapped her father around her tiny fingers. So badly, that one day when Trunks had been teasing his little sister, Vejiita forced the boy to have more discipline and talked Bulma into offering him a part-time job at the Capsule Corporation Research Centre. Trunks was of course fuming mad. And Bura, well, Bura always got what she wanted, that was and is what little sisters are for.

Time had no intention to take it easy, and the 28th Tenkaichi Budoukai was already on its way. What could be a better present from a grandfather to his five-year-old granddaughter than entering her in the adult division? Such could only be Goku's line of thinking. Videl wasn't too happy about it, nor was Gohan. Pan was of course delighted. Even if ChiChi was never thrilled when Goku pulled a stunt like that, boys will be boys. And as far as Goku is concerned, he will never change.

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Whilst life was taking it easy back on Chikyuu, the same couldn't be said about the other side of the universe, where a small, bleak planet hung lastingly suspended in sorrow.

Aera hadn't taken her mother's death well. She had turned even more into her own world than before. She honestly believed her stuffed dragon spoke to her, told her things, things that were yet to happen. Nobody believed her, and so she alienated from her friends and family even more. The only one she still confided in, however rarely, was Winter. This was simply because Winter did not laugh at her for her strange tales. Aera was an outcast, even in Chikura terms. She was a gifted Healer, though something about her made people weary of her. Some hidden strength, some sort of connection to a far away plane, or perhaps it was because of that dragon. She held the mark of the dragon, she held it inside of her. And that dragon roared, it roared, louder than Uyra's ever had. She was strong for a girl her age, and despite the never-ending hungry feeling, she seemed undaunted by everything the outside world brought to her. For Aera went outside, she openly challenged anyone who dared step in her way, and for some reason, for some reason Aera could get away with it.

Yamuna Tacra, the crimson haired Perfect Warrior, the Creation, or whatever anyone wished to call her, went as she pleased. The Overlord had given her free reign the day Majin Buu had been destroyed. To Yamuna, this had come as a surprise, to Darken, it had come as a last resort. The Destroyer inside of him was growing more powerful, it seethed on destruction and, unable to get away and possess the child, it sought for a different way to destroy, like it had for so many years. If he could not possess the Touch of Death, he would simply own her. He would own her, and she wouldn't even know it. Yamuna Tacra, the child which had never been given but a glance, but a glint of affection, was now being worshipped and revered by an entire population. She owned the world, and in return she gave it destruction and death. She loved it, she loved every inch of it. And so she wandered further away from the path that had once been paved for her. She wandered off until she was lost in the darkness, suspended in the evil clutches of her Master, the Overlord. She didn't even know it.

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The rebellion was all but wiped out. There weren't many left, save perhaps a few adolescents who had nothing but a dream to hold on to. The generation that was coming of age hadn't even the slightest memory of a lifetime before all this had happened. They grew up with wanton destruction, they grew up with all the hate.

A red sun shone, indicating last night had been one tainted with death. Tonight would be no exception. No night was nowadays. For Yamuna Tacra thrived on death, lived for it, and lived for it alone. She had forgotten about the frightened little girl craving only to be loved, so long ago. To her, that child had met its death a lifetime past. And it had not died a natural death.

An entire village was displayed at the other side of the arena, driven forward with poles and sticks, pushing them closer to her. She grabbed for her throwing knives when they stopped moving, and began to whimper, irritating her to her core.

She tossed a knife forward, almost casually, hitting one man in the head. He fell down. He was dead. Women started screaming, and some men were beginning to feel an urge to stop her. Nothing could stop her. She threw two more knives, and took a pair of short swords, holding them down from her palms. Running forward, she threw up sand. Suddenly, she stopped and turned with the swiftness of an athlete, diving into the flock of people at the edge of the arena. The group rushed apart, throwing themselves to every possible side, just to get away from her as quickly as possible. With a carefully estimated string of holds, chokes, throws, trips, joint locks, kicks and strikes, she decimated the group within seconds.

A woman stood far away in as corner, covering her face, weeping. Her dress was covered in blood, but it was not her own. Casually, Yamuna Tacra walked up to her.

"You're frightened, aren't you?" she said to the woman. The woman did her best to look at the girl but found herself unable to.

"Well?" Yamuna Tacra demanded, "Are you!"

The young woman nodded, terrified to her wits, unable to speak.

"Answer me!" Yamuna screamed.

"Y-Yes," the black haired woman replied.

Yamuna Tacra smirked. "Good." With an immediate slash, the girl cut her open from her belly to her throat, and left her for dead as she dropped into the blood-logged sand.

There were few others left but she decided against killing them all. Either they had deserved their freedom or some of the soldiers would come prey at them, so they had some live target to tinker with. She didn't really care what would happen to them.

She murdered, butchered, slaughtered whomever she pleased. She had that power. She willingly exploited that power. But it wasn't every day she got to choose who was to be her opponent. Today was such a day for there was another fight scheduled.

His hair was pale, and his skin had since long lost every hint of its shade due to years and years of captivity in one of the Detention Centres. She knew he was one of the Vizz-Uhn captives. She recalled seeing his face, half hidden in the shadows. His features were handsome, even though prison hardship had long hardened him. He was of a strong build, and his eyes were likely the most beautiful she had ever seen. He was given the opportunity to choose a weapon but he oddly refused. There weren't many who shared such bravery ---or foolishness. She smirked, thinking of what weapon she should use. She had access to an arsenal of weapons but her all-time favourite had to be the Syrtan Tacris, the Hand of Death, which was a personal, close combat weapon. She could of course grab one of her set of swords or knives but decided against it for some reason.

She approached him, nearly to his personal space. She did not fear him, had never feared anyone in her life, at least, she didn't recall anyone. And if he wasn't worth recalling, she probably didn't fear him. It was the logic of a mass-murderer.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"I've known you even before you existed," he told her.

"I asked you a question."

"All right, I'll rephrase my answer. I'm someone who has known you even before you existed," he said.

Yamuna pulled up her lip. "Fuck you. What kind of answer is that?"

"One that will bring forth more questions. Perhaps it is time for you to ask questions first, kill later," the man spoke, daringly.

The girl shuffled her feet. She wasn't used to such valour, not from anyone. "All right, you've earned my attention. What are you trying to say?" she asked.

"I recollect a dream your sister Nita had. She dreamed of you, and yet you two have never met. At least, given the circumstances, I hope you two haven't met."

"Quit it with the jokes, wise guy," Yamuna snapped at him. "I don't care for your grim humour. What sister? I don't have a sister."

"Oh yes you have. You share the same father."

"Shut up! I have no father!" she barked.

"Yes you do, and he fought valiantly against what threatened this world, and his people. It's his necklace you're wearing." The man stared for a moment. He had realized it only as he had said it. He didn't know where she got it but he knew it had been Gular's. He recognized the Dragon Tear his sister had held onto for so long immediately. Nita had left it in Uyra's care for some reason. He had never discussed it with Nita or Uyra. And it didn't matter. Nor did it matter how the ring had come into the hands of the most unlikely creature.

"Why did you stop?" she wondered.

"I'm sorry," the man said. "But I want you to know your father fought the Hakaisha. And I think you should fight him, too. You should not let him control your life like this."

She shook a fist at him, trembling. "Don't tell me what to do!" She tried to calm down, she had so many questions left untouched. Her fingers brushed past her necklace. She swallowed.

"A woman gave this necklace to me, somehow. I do not know who she is, or was. Her hair was as pale as yours, and she wore the garments of a Healer. She told me—" She cut herself off, she had tried hard to push away that dream, she had even put away the necklace somewhere at the back of a top shelf. But the dreams kept haunting her. Yamuna Tacra could not shake the feeling killing that woman had been the wrong thing to do. And she did not know why it plagued her so much.

"She w-was Uyra…" He suddenly realized he was standing face to face with the one murderer of the woman that had been the closest thing to a mother he had ever had. The Touch of Death had killed Uyra, he knew. He knew when he looked into those horrible, bloodred eyes. "She was the last hope that was left to us. And although I find it hard to believe, apparently, she passed on that hope, to you—"

"Get away from me," the girl whispered. She turned his back to him, and walked away. As soldiers came close to prey upon him, to slaughter him, she opened her mouth and spoke to them.

"Let him go," she said, "Let all of them go. They're free to go. And let them take their fallen loved ones with them." She turned once more, to look at the pale man.

"What is your name, stranger?"

"Fringe," he answered. "My name's Fringe."

"Fringe," she spoke. "I give you my word. You're free to go. And if you wish it, seek out my sister from the dungeons, and take her with you."

"I cannot take but one prisoner and leave the others behind. They all are my family," Fringe said.

"Then take them all with you. Take them all and go. Get lost."

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The end of the bloodshed had not been in sight for years. Even after Yamuna Tacra had met Fringe, who had made a lasting impression, she wasn't able to let go of the butchering. It was almost as if she was obsessed, too weak to kick the habit. She might've been only a child but her cruelty told you otherwise. Whatever it was that was left of the rebellion seemed to diminish as Yamuna Tacra's opponents died. But they kept coming, rebels kept pouring in from every direction. For the Touch of Death had set free the one man who was able to revive the rising. The people of Chikura-sei pushed for revolution, screamed for it in the streets. Not even the bloodshed could stop them from demanding freedom. The Overlord had only learned about Fringe's release when it was already too late. Fringe and Nita, who was rumoured Gular's daughter, fed the insurrection, fed it with all they could give. However, like her father, Nita had always been a bit reckless and so she was captured again. Now that Darken had found out about her heritage, she wouldn't get away with a simple punishment anymore.

Yamuna Tacra gently caressed the Syrtan. The blades were sharp and edged. She was ready to kill. She was ready to do as she had for so many years. Today, for the first time since two years, Yamuna Tacra would tear apart her opponents, she would eat their hearts and like it. She would be who she must be. She screamed, firing up the crowd. She remembered the blood raining down on her, she remembered the odd sensation of a first kill. She remembered the warm blood savouring her lips. She needed death. There was nothing else for her, only coldness. The gates opened. She could hear how the old cogs protested against the heavy metal gateway. She was ready.

"No! You cannot do this. Let me go!"

The carmine haired assassin turned. She smirked. The girl opposite her was bound in shackles, and she was wretchedly thin. It was Nita. Her hair was bright red, as were her eyes. Her skin was pale, and tiny freckles covered her nose and cheeks. She sat on her knees, holding out her hands, likely because the shackles were too heavy. She looked straight at the Touch of Death, and a glint of sorrow and love shivered through her, almost as if she knew her from more than just the sickening stories. Yamuna Tacra never shared such emotion, she just stood, watching her from a minute distance, readying to strike.

"You look like you could use a hug," the red haired girl said.

"You can get one, and then some," Yamuna replied, coldly.

"I know he's proud of you," Nita said.

"Who is? The devil?"

"Gular." Her red eyes looked her in the face, without fear.

"Quit it. I'm not falling for your cheap tricks," Yamuna Tacra complained.

The carmine haired girl clenched a fist, forcing the Syrtan blades to spring out. With one quick thrust, she drove her fist into the girl's chest. Nita kept looking at her, her red eyes slowly fading. Everything fell silent, and Yamuna Tacra could softly feel the girl's heart beating against her hand. Something felt horribly wrong. Something felt so horribly wrong. It was the girl's blood. Her blood cringed, in a way Yamuna would never have held possible. From the crowd, a young girl stood, perhaps but a year apart from the Touch of Death herself. Her hair was pale, and her features very much reminded the deadly girl of the woman she had seen in her dreams. This could not be. The face was the same. The pale haired girl reached out a hand. She screamed.

"Nita!"

Horrified, Yamuna turned, to look in the eyes of the girl who was dying from under her.

"Nita?" She stammered. "My sister?"

All Nita could muster was a quivering nod, and a small whimper. She couldn't breathe. She was dying. A shiver went through Yamuna at that realization. This was wrong. A bellowing laughter filled the battleground, and the girl frowned, closing her crimson eyes. Nita sank onto the dusty ground, and died. Yamuna could still hear the roaring laughter, and she looked up to the man producing such a sickening sound. He simpered, calmly folding his arms as he sat in one of the privileged arena compartments. She ground her teeth, hesitant of everything except that she was losing control of her emotions.

"Darken!" she screamed. "You knew!"

Darken still laughed. "Of course I did. There is nothing left that binds you here."

The girl shrieked, cutting her own face with the Syrtan when she tried to throw her hands in front of her face, when she tried to cover her shame, her anger, when she tried to disappear. She didn't even notice. Slowly, she was beginning to tremble, and she looked at the pale girl that stood in quiet solitude. The girl just stood there, unmoving, staring back at her. Yamuna Tacra didn't know what to do, what to feel. She felt washed over with a mistaken feeling. Was it regret? Was it pain?

Never had she felt she hadn't the right to claim lives. Never had she thought she'd feel such pain. She felt it, the moment she laid a finger on that red haired woman, she felt there was a connection. She felt they had the same blood pumping through their veins. But it was too late now. It was too late for her.

There was no repentance left, no repentance strong enough to make this right. Yamuna Tacra, the Touch of Death felt something burst inside of her, a hatred and rage exploding deep down and it felt natural, it felt as something for which she was born.

It was Darken. She had hated him all this time, she hated him, and it felt right, it felt like it was all she had ever really longed for. She hated him with all her heart, she hated him for everything he was. In that godforsaken moment, as the anger reached its epitome, it happened. Her hair began to float from her skull, and her eyes switched to an unnatural jade. And most of all, she couldn't stop screaming, so she screamed. She screamed and screamed, unable to control herself; only after the transformation was complete was there a shattering silence.

Yamuna Tacra had achieved Super Saiyajin.

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Author's Note: Yes, so there's been a lot of mentionings (if that's even a word) and happenings I didn't fully show. I apologize. So much happens after the Cell and Buu Saga, it's hard to show everything. I promise there will be more moments you always wanted to know about later on, through whatever, maybe memories, or reminiscing done by characters. We'll just see. And yes, there's yet another Super Saiyajin. Don't worry, she's nowhere near the strength of any of the other surviving Saiyajin, unless Goten and Trunks decide they'd rather be sorry than safe, eh? Ha. Bunch of lazy mockheads. But then, there's still that strange dragon inside of her, so we'll just see what'll happen.

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	24. Tale 21 Ranshi Ga Suki

**BOOK II**  
**"Evil Can Only Exist If You Believe In It"**

Tale Twenty One---Ranshi Ga Suki---**  
Rating: M**

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Author's Note: adult situations. No, this is M, not MA. Adult situations means there are issues a younger audience might not understand, got that? Now, on to the story.

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Those furious, green eyes saw nothing but the torturing gaze of the man at the other side of the arena, whose cloak fluttered irregularly on the infectious wind. She longed to kill him. He stood, watching her carefully, just staring at her, not saying a single word. His eyes blazed into her, and for the first time in her life, she knew what it was to be terrified.

"Darken!" she had screamed. "---Darken!" She had no words left. She had nothing left to say to him. She didn't know what to do, who to turn to. She was at the end of her rope. She didn't know what she was, where she came from, and what he wanted of her. She really didn't know anything anymore. The frustration in her heart grew deeper, more profound, making her quiver with fear. Her hair tumbled to its former blood-red, and her eyes grew old, older than they had been before. She sank to the ground when the first raindrops fell onto the dry sand, hoping it would wash away the blood that had clotted onto her soul. She knew it was a inane plea. She looked up to him one last, desperate instant. He had not moved for all this time, his face as gaunt and menacing as always, his cold eyes revealing nothing.

"What is it that you want from me?" she begged. "What do you want!" she shrieked, raucously and unaware of her own desperation. She heaved. "Please. Just please— let me go." Her voice was growing weaker, washed away in the growing rain. When she looked up again, she noticed all was dark and the man she loathed and feared so much had left without word. The girl stood wearily, dragging herself away from here. She wanted out. She wanted out so bad.

She had welcomed the rain like a soporific respite. Tittering through branches of exhausted trees, fiddling across pallid leaves, finding a way to the scorched ground the water fell onto her face as if hailed. She heard nothing but her ragged breathing and the water pushing down on her, and she let her head fall between her knees. She was growing desperate, overwhelmed with a sense of frustration she had never felt. She was ready to cry but somehow found herself unable to. She wished to scream but no sound came. She had nothing left to cry over. She had nothing left worth to pity for she was worthy of nothing, not even pity. The dragon inside of her let out one last, hysterical howl, and the sky lit up with an afflicting boom. Her world would never be the same. For she felt gashed in her heart, frayed by a heritage that was uninvited. Screaming in pain, her wail died in the thundering madness of the night, undesired, unnoticed, ignored.

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Trunks clutched his temples as the headache grew deeper. Shoving his fingers over his closed eyelids, he tried hard to gather the strength needed to stand and face the crowd of journalists, businessmen, and his hopeful mother, the current CEO of Capsule Corporation. He couldn't let her down, could he? Why couldn't he just say no? He had been the one who'd dropped out of college. He'd been the one to suggest he'd find a job. He had his job, now. He sighed, letting out a tiny squeal of pain. His migraine was absolutely killing him, and his focus, damn it! He pushed himself from his desk chair, knowing all he had to do was walk down the hallway of the Capsule Corporation Office Building, located in the South Side of Satan City, where skyscrapers and business agencies dominated the area. Just one hallway, just one part of what was soon to become his firm. He didn't like the sound of that. He definitely didn't like the sound of that.

The automatic doors pushed open with a whiz. An elderly woman stood in the doorway, her grey hair pulled back into a bun. She coughed, looking up from her old-fashioned glasses.

"Sir," she said in an official tone of voice. "The reporters and other guests are waiting."

Trunks nodded, folding a hand and putting it to his mouth in order to calm down.

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Skivvy."

For Trunks it was showtime. Oh, how he wished Goten were there to help him out. But Trunks knew this was something he had to do, alone. His best friend couldn't help him. His best friend wouldn't even understand. Quietly, he followed his secretary through the corridor, down to the press room. Mrs. Skivvy opened the door, and nodded at Trunks, once. "Good luck, sir," she said to him.

He knew he was going to need it. That, and a truckload of painkillers and double Scotch on the rocks. Well, his mother didn't exactly allow him to drink, not at this age, but he knew he was going to need it anyway. He took a breath, and stepped in.

As he entered, he was welcomed with a bombardment of blinding flashes caused by eager photographers. He sat down, nervously adjusting his tie. He felt like he was about to choke. Glancing at his mother he noticed she wasn't nearly as nervous as he. It reassured him, if only a little.

"And now down to why I really called you all," Bulma said, knowing this was what everyone was waiting for, instead of the economic babble preceding all this; everyone-- and possibly at least eighty million households watching the news at prime time. "As you all may have been suspecting by now, since it's been fizzing on the surface for quite a while, this year's conference is different from the usual---" She paused for a moment, building up tension that was suffocating what breathing space was left for Trunks. "---as it is the day I resign as President of the Capsule Corp." She overpowered the murmurs in the crowd by increasing her tone of voice, and ignored the dominant flashing of cameras, blinding both her, her Higher Executive Dr. Gonbatte, and Trunks. "I pass on this important task to my son, Trunks Briefs. And I assure you that he will bring Capsule Corporation even more glory days than any of his predecessors, including myself." She giggled, hoping the crowd caught her humour, since it was her strong feat to have moved Capsule Corp. to the downtown of Satan City in which year the profit had more than tripled, all on her account. Instead of hilarity, she and her son were welcomed with a tremendous ovation, granting Trunks no moment to do his saying. Only when the applause had died down a little could he speak. He cleared his throat timidly. Then, he folded his hands, finding the calm to talk responsively.

"I embrace this important undertaking with all my heart. I will make it my mission to take Capsule Corp. to new heights, heights we are yet to explore. And I ask you to come with me, I ask you, as I did the shareholders, to remember me, for you'll hear of me again, at the top of the industrial world. Capsule Corporation will venture in more innovating areas than before, will expand both its fashion and hi-tech lines, as well as its research facilities and I will prove to you there truly is nothing bigger than the Capsule spirit." He swallowed, feeling queasy, wishing this was all just a bad dream. Sometimes, he truly hated his heritage, as a Saiyajin Prince, but also as the son of the most influential businesswoman in the world, ex-CEO Dr. Bulma Briefs.

"Thank you," he finally concluded, "Are there any further questions?" When a barrage of hands flew up, Trunks knew he had no choice but to accept and answer all questions that would be fired at him. He knew – he just knew – he was going to hate his job.

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Life was much easier on Son Goten – well – it looked like it. Whereas his father had been gone for ages, and his brother had begun to alienate himself from him, now, Son Goten finally had a father after so many years. And although his interest in martial arts was slowly beginning to wane, he loved the attention his father Goku gave him. The endless spars weren't the only things Goku gave his son; he also gave him something much more precious. Son Goku passed on his love of life, the feeling everything would be all right as long as Goku was there, the desire to be just like him despite his flaws. Goten thought he understood. Goten honestly believed his father had meant it when he said he'd always be there for him. He honestly thought the fighting was over. But ChiChi worried. She worried about both her husband and her youngest son. She had known Goku since her early teenage years, had known him even before he knew himself, and she knew what he was like. He was a good man but he was also a warrior. Goku had always been more of a warrior than a husband and father. And Goku would always be that warrior, even in peaceful times. For ChiChi saw how restless Goku was becoming, she felt it in her heart. It would be only a matter of time before he'd leave once more. She knew she could take it, however, she wasn't too sure about her youngest. She feared how it would affect him as she had already noticed the tiny fractures in Goten's fragile heart. Sitting up at nights, the blissful peace that had lulled Chikyuu and its inhabitants to sleep kept ChiChi awake, worrying what the future might bring, especially to Goten.

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It was already early in the morning when she made it back to her quarters. The night was cold, but the rain had ended. The skies were black, erroneous and poisoned with purple, billowing clouds. The set of moons was nearing fullness, save one, which was waning, hidden in the morning's fog. Darken had once again proven erratic when he showed up in her chamber, holding a small, wooden chest. She looked at him, not knowing what to say to him. What did he want of her now?

"Keep it," Darken said to her as he set it beside the windowsill on which she had set herself down. She frowned at him, and then looked at the chest. Confused, she looked back up to the man.

"A gift?" she asked.

"Don't consider it as much a gift. Super Saiyajin is not something to be taken lightly. It destroyed your ancestors, and it will seek to no avail to bring down you, as well. It's as much a curse as it is a gift, Tacris." He turned, and left, not bothering to wait for further questions, unwilling to look at the girl a moment longer.

She grimaced, opening the crested chest, straddled in her lap. She leaned back in the shelf when she noticed the chest's contents. Somewhat disappointed she took two dusty, wooden scrolls out of the trunk, and let the latter plunge into the cold, marble floor. Unrolling one of the scrolls she made a sound, realizing the signs marked onto the scroll were complete abracadabra to her. She didn't even recognize any of the signs. Angered, she tossed both scrolls to the ground.

Super Saiy… Super Saiya… what was it again? 

She didn't like the sound of that.

She let herself slide down from the sill and landed clumsily onto one of the unfolded scrolls. Irritably, the girl grabbed the scroll, ripping part off, and threw it into the chest. Reaching for the chest, in order to toss the remains of parchment in, she noticed a tiny, in leather bound jotter at the very bottom. Interested, she took it from the trunk. When she opened it, a bleached piece of manuscript fell out. By the looks of it, it was new, written recently.

Death is with us all but so is life. Light bears darkness but it is the darkness that cannot stand whichever light. The path of righteousness is the path of light yet such path cannot be void of darkness, nothing is. Light brings forth darkness, but darkness brings forth nothing at all, only destruction. Without light there is nothing, only darkness. Nothing can subsist without light, nothing can survive without it, in the end, not even darkness can. And so a balance is needed. It was our obligation to bring such balance. Pity to say that we failed. It was our obligation, it was our duty. But us Higher Beings were not made for a world of Chaos. The Ryuu no Chikara corrupted in the Real, they corrupted until there was nothing left of them, only a prison of disillusionment and regret-- I was never much of a truth-seeker but some of these lessons stayed with me. The Gods are wise, despite their unjust nature.

It is not you who made a choice. A choice was made for you. You are afraid, aren't you? You're afraid of me, and that is why you hate me so much. You think I'm some sort of monster but I am not. I am not the monster, you are. Of course, you had no say in this, for it is I who created you.

I know-- I just know you don't believe me when I tell you this. But I am not a monster. A monster thrives on destruction; a monster finds pleasure in death. I do not. I find no pleasure in any of this. I find pleasure in nothing. For it is pleasure I was created for. Sardonic, isn't it?

The Destroyer was not granted the bliss of reason. And it is its cruel fate to say that its equal, the Saviour, was furnished with such a blessing instead. For the Saviour was never created to jolt Murass' tedium, as was the Destroyer. The Saviour was created for the one purpose of destroying the Destroyer. The Saviour has this purpose, and it is what keeps it from deteriorating. It is the Hakaisha that is worth your pity. It has no purpose, no reason, not even the slightest notion of why it was created in the first place. For it wanted nothing but to please its master. It was spit out, thrown away, banished because Murass grows jaded all the time, for it is in his nature to not find satisfaction or dissatisfaction in anything for more than but a fit of a moment. The Hakaisha grew bitter, and sought for one purpose, just one. However, given its name it could not create, not equal to Murass, not equal to any of the Higher Beings. The Hakaisha was nothing except darkness. So on darkness it thrived, and darkness it created, until its evil began to poison everything in the Unreal. And for this one event, Murass created the Real, the world of rebirth and constant ending. Here, Darkness was bound to Light, and tied together for all eternity. Was it the Highest's playground? Everything is His playground. Everything is a joke to Him. Though He is not to be taken lightly. Nor are His creations.

But I don't know much of the Saiyajin. I know but one thing. For everything in their world is tied to emotion as it is their weakness and strength; it is their curse. Murass cursed us all; each and every creature He spawned bears a curse, one crueller than the other. You may say, He cannot do this to us but He does. He does not care. He has no compassion, no empathy. Murass does not care. He does not care because He cannot. Murass is that pure.

However, it is I who created you. Not Murass. It is destruction that forged you, not purity. What does that tell you? Should I tell you more? Dare I tell you everything? I'm not so sure anymore. I fear what the future might bring.

_My name is Shaellar. I am a dragon. My name is the Hakaisha. I am the Destroyer. I am not who you think I am._

She crumpled up the paper; irritated it still didn't tell her anything. Opening the jotter, she frantically sought for more, a clue, a hint, something to hold on to. This was his journal, this was the journal of a dragon, a dragon incarcerated by a destructive creature, a creature not of this world. It had witnessed the onslaught of the Saiyajin, the ferocious warriors of the Eastern District seeking nothing but force and conquest. She was one of them. As she was as bloodthirsty as the first Saiyajin had been since the dawning of Real. Saiyajin, of the distant Saiya-sei. Saiyajin, thriving on destruction.

She gazed out the pane, looking at the starlit night. Dawn was near. As much of a revelation it was for the child to learn of her alien heritage, she was about as disappointed all the same. Were these Saiyajin monsters? Was she truly just that, a monster? Flooded with questions that needed answering, she waited for the dawn to come, hoping it would clear away the transgression she was. A monster. What did it mean to be a monster?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She cried when she made it back to her draughty room. Why was all this happening? Which cruel fate had decided she should lose everyone she cared for? First, her mother. And now, Nita. Nita was the closest thing she had ever had to a friend.

"Ahem."

She looked at the stuffed dragon curled on her straw bed. Could it be her cuddly toy was the only friend she had in this world?

"Damned right I am."

She sighed, taking it in her hands, as she buried her face in the pillow. "Fihs unfaih! Hy fahn I fus niffawheah!" she screamed into it, muffling her own voice.

"Love, I can't make out what you're saying. How can I help you if I can't even hear you?" the same voice said to her.

She pushed herself up with her elbows, clumsily wiping away her tears, slobbering. She then turned in a flash, grabbing the stuffed dragon, and holding the scarlet doll in front of her face. "I said: it's unfair. Why can't I just disappear?" she told it firmly.

It almost seemed to laugh in response. "Disappear?" it said. "Where to?"

Aera sighed, brushing a lock of pale hair out of her face by blowing against it furiously.

"Anywhere," she said with an indignant smirk.

"Ah, I see. Anywhere, now. Great choice, love. For there is so much to see." Its sharp voice sounded as if near ridicule.

"Don't you mock me, Murass!" she carped at it. "Don't make me tear out your stuffing." Her pale eyes glistened, and she did her best to glare at the dragon.

"Yes, yes. I'm sorry. You're no fun," it replied, pausing for an instant. "So, how about getting you a new best friend, then? It seems you don't count me in your tightly packed circle, now do you?"

"Shut up, Murass," she complained, rolling over onto her back, still holding the cuddly toy in front of her. "How can I ever find a friend who won't laugh at me for talking to a stuffed dragon? I'm sixteen years old! I should be taken seriously."

"I take you seriously," Murass commented.

"You're a stuffed pet."

"So?" it challenged.

Aera laughed, hugging the doll, holding it close. She closed her eyes, smiling. Murass always knew how to make her let go of her worries and sorrows, no matter how big or small. Murass was that pure.

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Piccolo sat in blazing silence in lotus position, hovering mid air. He seemed calm but his mind was not. He felt like he was getting old, somehow. He still wasn't ruler of the world. His plans had never changed but somehow something always came up the minute the desire to do something began to boil. He frowned, keeping his eyes shut. If there were the slightest alarm, his keen hearing would warn him, he was sure. So, why not get back to his plans in taking over the world, right? The mountain wind cooled off his warm body, and he could sense a rain shower – perhaps even snow – would embrace the area soon. Rain would be good. Piccolo could appreciate the purifying might of a decent Chikyuu rain. He let go his breath soothingly, enjoying the cool late afternoon breeze.

"Mr. Piccolo! It's incredible!"

Piccolo nearly lost his balance when the engorged scream reached him. Shocked, he opened his eyes, to meet with Gohan's. Catching both his breath and balance, Piccolo folded his arms again, huffing resentfully.

"What, Gohan?"

"Pan-chan! Pan-chan's first word!" Gohan said, smiling widely.

Piccolo frowned irritably. So, today his take-over-the-world plan was being disrupted by a poop factory's first words. It could be worse. No wait, this was an outrage! He was Piccolo. Why should he care for some _ningen_ prattle? He panted, calming himself.

"What's that got to do with me, Gohan?"

"You'll never guess what she said! Come on, guess!" the Son chirped enthusiastically.

"Mother, father, food, whatever babies want?" Piccolo said, complaining.

"Ah, you're not even trying!" Gohan's aura burst around him, his enthusiasm almost spurring him into either Super Saiyajin or Mystic, Piccolo couldn't really tell.

"I give up," the Nameckuseijin commented.

Gohan smirked. "Want to know what she really said?" he asked.

"Not really."

"Green," Gohan said, nudging his old Master. He was still smiling like a Son idiot. Piccolo mentally shook his head.

"Green." The Nameckuseijin replied pokerfaced.

"Green."

Perhaps it was the enthusiasm in Gohan's voice that brought him around, perhaps it was something else. Piccolo smirked. "It's a start," he told the Son. They both laughed.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She unsheathed both swords, and adjusted her weight a little. She looked up, her face void of any emotion whatsoever. She'd make this carnage a swift one. The Touch of Death was very much aware she'd displease her Master by doing so. This time, she didn't care. So what if she'd receive another thrashing? At least this slaughter would be over with soon enough.

She had never really enjoyed the taste of blood, nor had she enjoyed the specks of sand digging into each and every pore of her body, or the tormented screams of the children these victims left behind. There were always children they left behind, she thought to herself.

"Come get it," she called out to the small flock of frightened men and women at the other end of the arena. These are all related, Yamuna Tacra thought. They're from the same village, and the same Sanûmé clan. She yawned, in a somewhat odd mixture of boredom and weariness. No, boredom wasn't the word-- tedium perhaps? Or could she actually be tired of all butchering and wrongs she had committed since early childhood?

Frankly, Yamuna Tacra was actually a bit somnolent right now. And she honestly didn't have a clue where this feeling was coming from.

She did not wish to kill them for several reasons. One being the lack in challenge, another she simply wasn't up for it today.

She could feel how her head was engulfed by a drowsy coverlet squeezing out the power to keep her eyes open and alert for a possible – though very unlikely – assault. She nodded once, and a second time and she felt how she dozed off into some sort of subconscious level.

Yamuna Tacra stood, dancing about like a tree on the wind, her eyes closed. She dropped both swords, and she didn't even seem to notice any of the disbelief that was boiling up in the audience, spreading like a blazing fire across the entire arena compound. She fell flat to her face, and the world around her vanished. And the blazing fire actually spread.

"_Ranshi ga suki_," she murmured, her eyes closed. "_Ranshi ga suki_. I like burning to death."

The world had vanished, and had been engulfed in scorching flames, leaving nothing in the vicinity untouched. Both the Saiyajin and the Dragon inside called out to her, battling each other, wishing to wipe one another from the face of existence. And the sweltering fire continued to eradicate everything. It was the only way she could counter, the fire feeding itself with the discord in her soul.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

With a jolt, Aera woke up. She had had another of her dreams. She dreamt of death surrounding her, she dreamt of fire, destruction, and hatred. She was afraid to sleep at night. Her forehead was dappled with sweat. She breathed, grabbing her cuddly pet dragon.

"Your doing?" she demanded angrily. There was a silence, irritating her to her core. "Answer me!" She sighed, calming down. "Please, just answer me. I don't understand."

"Don't blame me for everything, love," it said involuntarily.

"Shut up!" she barked at it.

"Shut up. Answer me. Shut up. Answer me. You nearly strike me a borderliner, love."

"You shouldn't be so mean to me. I thought I was your friend." She rubbed her eyes, pulling her hair out of the bun it was in. She sighed.

"Don't fret. I have a teeny tiny task for you," Murass said to her.

"What kind of task?"

"You ought to befriend a certain someone," the dragon answered.

"Really?" she asked.

"Really. A certain someone, a certain someone. A certain. Someone."

"Quit teasing me. Tell me whom!" Aera insisted, smiling.

"Touch of Death. I want you to befriend the Touch of Death. Be the best friend she's ever had. Be the best friend you'd ever be."

If Aera had ever been close to ripping out Murass' stuffing it was now. She screamed.

"No! No, Murass. Please. Please, no!" she begged of him. But Murass wouldn't hear another word, and kept quiet. Frustrated and shocked, Aera tossed the doll across her room with a shriek, where it came down inches from the wooden door closing off her cavern room. The door flung open.

"What's all the racket?" Winter asked, her face only half awake. Her auburn hair was beginning to show the first hints of aging, tousled and greying; 'salt-and-pepper' is what she called it. Aera had always loved that word but she was thinking other issues right now.

"Murass!" the girl shouted. "I hate him! Hear me, _fucking_ asshole! I hate you!"

Winter rushed inside, holding Aera close. "You'll be all right," she whispered. "You'll be all right. It was only a dream."

This wasn't a dream. Aera was pretty far from all right. She wasn't going to be all right. This was the lowest stunt Murass had pulled on her so far. This was too much. How could he do this to her! She was to befriend the one monster that had butchered half her family! What kind of mockery was this?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

_But please--  
__Please don't turn off the light._

---JoSav 1998, "Open"---

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Author's Note: This is the last chapter of Book II. I know that makes the second book really short but they can't all be immense, now can they? I hope you enjoyed this. I apologize for any grammatical mistakes.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x


	25. Tale 22 Amity

_"No one knows how to change destiny. Despite this, some have."_

---Kyuusaisha no Hikage: A Chronicle. Pt1, Chapter 12: 'Aera, heir to the High Lord?'---

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**BOOK III**  
**"Light To Darkness; Saviour to Destroyer"**

Tale Twenty Two---Amity--- **  
Rating: T**

_When I was young, I knew it all  
__With always wanting to disagree  
__And desperately desiring to be free  
__But now that I am against the wall  
__I have no one left on who I can depend  
__For I have denied you from beginning to the end  
__I have always lacked in being a good friend  
__Now that I'm in need for you to break my fall  
__You are there, helping me through it all  
__I am confused, I don't understand anything anymore  
__I ask myself, is this what friends are for?_

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The changing of seasons came as a complete surprise to the inhabitants of the southern region of Chikura-sei. It was winter knocking on their doors, raging through their burrows and quarters, unrelenting and strong. The zone surrounding the polluted town of Cadmiru was quickly becoming a no go area. Snow and ice covered the plains, and whichever nutrition was left was freezing to death, vanished underneath a coverlet of frost.

The snow crackled under her boots, and she left small prints that were covered in even more snow soon after, disappearing as if no one had ever crossed these borders. She paid no attention to it. Her cloak was pulled tightly over her face, and she held it with one fist, preventing it from gusting away. She thought she could discern a small shape, moving about the Councillor's bastion patch, likely wanting to steal some of the Councillor's precious fruits and vegetables. She snickered. So Menlar still hadn't upgraded his sorry fifth column of watchmen, had he? The Councillor of Cadmiru was the one she least enjoyed visiting. Not only did he lack backbone, he was also most stubborn of them all. He never listened. She gathered her chi, leaping up into one of the forest trees. She observed the shadowy character moving stealthily across the bastion patch. Yamuna Tacra was somewhat disappointed to notice the thief was female, given her sleek motion. She blinked for a moment when both snow and wind caught up and she pulled her cloak tighter. Setting her feet apart a couple of centimetre, she bent her knees and jumped. Somersaulting and using her chi and the heavy wind to uplift her, she landed next to the figure without much effort. The instant her feet touched the snow covered ground, she crossed her fists, and pulled them to the side of her body, having the Syrtan Tacris blades spring out in the process. She smirked, her face revealing when the wind blew off her cape.

"Any last wishes, thief?" the carmine haired girl said to the trespasser, not waiting for the latter to turn and face her. The cloaked figure turned, her face hidden.

"I'm no more a thief than the Councillors and their henchmen are," she replied.

Yamuna Tacra laughed in response. "Clever but I'm not buying. Now show yourself."

"I have no intention of showing my true self if you refuse to do just that for all your life," the thief said.

"Show yourself!" Yamuna Tacra barked.

"Why should I?" the thief retorted.

"Because I command you to!"

"I take no orders, except from the Highest," the thief told Yamuna Tacra fearlessly.

Yamuna narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what to do or say. She was mightily impressed this puny little thief had such spirit but she was also irritated this happened under the very eye of the one Councillor she loathed. From the corner of her eye she discerned Menlar and a handful of watchmen scrutinizing the situation. She could simply feel Menlar laughing at her. Bah, how she despised that dimwit! She shifted her attention back to the woman defying her, keeping her priorities sorted.

"The Highest of All is the least of your concerns right now!" she snapped, glaring with a look that could take lives. "You should ask yourself what you hold dearest," she continued, her voice vile with rage, "Your beliefs or your life." Again, she readied herself to strike, moving into an aggressive position, one fist near her face, the other over her head.

The thief reached up with a slim hand, pulling the cloak back from her head, showing her face, her almost white hair pulled into a ponytail. Her ice blue eyes stared right back at the Touch of Death.

"You have no idea what it means to truly believe, Yamuna Tacra. You have no idea what it is to believe in anything except your own cheap thrills. I take pity on you, killer."

She was the same girl that had gauged at her in the arena, years ago, screaming out that unforgettable name, screaming for her to stop. It was the same girl, with the same striking eyes, the same, beautiful face as that woman in her poignant dreams, the same haunting voice. Likely for the first time in her life, Yamuna Tacra gasped.

"Y-you again," she stammered in disbelief. Without really considering, the carmine haired girl drew back her weapons, standing insecurely, the wind disrupting her balance even more. "Why aren't you afraid of me?"

"There is nothing to fear--- What can you bring? Sorrow? Pain? --- Death?" Young Aera swallowed, revealing a hint of emotion for the first time. "I've seen enough of all three to have grown numb to such hitches."

Aera dropped a bundle of crops, and quickly kneeled to pick the fruits and vegetables up. Yamuna relaxed at the sight of it. She closed her eyes, then looked down to her. The girl stood, and only now did Yamuna Tacra notice how much taller this girl was. She looked up at her – the thieving girl towered at least a head over her. She ignored her irritation in seeing how tall she was. "That's it? Because you have faith in Murass? Because you think He will release you from your martyr when you die? For a moment I would've thought you were smarter than those gullible yokels believing all that twaddle the Healers produced--- Murass doesn't care about your meaningless little life. Murass doesn't give a damn, you fool!"

"Don't judge what you do not understand," Aera objected.

"What's not to understand? Murass is an inequitable monster, nothing else!"

"Murass furnished all that is. Murass is pure; He takes no sides," the pale haired girl said.

Yamuna Tacra breathed, glancing over her shoulder. Menlar hadn't moved but she knew he was ready to mock her. She felt how her eyes twitched, she had always had that nervous tremor when unsure of herself. She shook her head. "Ha! What makes you so sure of yourself? You mean to tell me you really believe this shit?" She let her hand blades spring out, readying herself to strike. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't just kill you."

"Because you owe it," the fair girl said.

"I owe you nothing."

"You owe it to yourself, killer," Aera told her.

Yamuna Tacra pulled her chin up, her eyes never leaving Aera's. What was that child talking about? She bared her teeth, blinking twice before replying. "Oh do I?" She paused for a second, narrowing her eyes dangerously. "Why?"

"_Gante ludis Yamuna Tacra dineh so_," Aera spoke. "You remember those words well, don't you?"

She remembered. She remembered all too well. She remembered the serene night sky, the pale Healer standing opposite her, speaking to her as she would to her own daughter. She remembered the necklace, which she still kept safely in her quarters. But she remembered more. She remembered the feeling that had washed over her the moment she'd realized what it was like to wilfully murder an innocent person. She remembered her first cognisant kill. She remembered like it were only yesterday. _Gante ludis Yamuna Tacra dineh so_, she had said to her. She had told her to follow her heart. She had told her what she truly was: a killer.

Overwhelmed by the sudden blast of emotion, Yamuna Tacra dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands, burying herself in shame. She remembered her choice. She remembered how much it had hurt back then. She remembered how much it still hurt.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The night was hot and sultry. It was too damn searing to sleep. Vejiita kept his arms folded as he stood at the far end of the child's bedroom, by the door. His child, this was his child. A quiver went through him and he almost caught himself laughing over his own nonsensicality. Careful not to make a sound, he unfolded his arms and treaded softly to the centre of the room, peering over the edge of the crib. The infant girl had her eyes closed, and sucked on her tiny hand. Her blue hair was tousled and short, and looked nothing like his own. Vejiita's face was tense, his lips pressed together. He didn't recall feeling this docile in a long time. Although he was done fighting his personal battles, and the peaceful times Chikyuu had faced this past decade lulled even the most restless of souls, something had always been awake at the back of his mind, disturbing his calm. But when he looked at that fragile little girl holding – choking actually – that stuffed dragon Trunks had given her, her eyes closed, and not a worry crossing her brow, he couldn't help but feel passive – and --- happy.

She opened her eyes suddenly, their blueness almost striking him as unnatural. She looked at him, and reached out her drool covered hands, begging for him to hold her. Somewhat taken aback, Vejiita looked about him, unsure how to respond. The child still held out her hands, reaching for her father. Vejiita half smiled, although it was more of a faint smirk. He took her out of the crib. She threw her tiny arms around his neck, smiling blissfully. Vejiita blinked, hesitant of the child's eagerness in embracing him. _Bura_, he thought. _Bura-chan_.

He walked to the moonlit window quietly, holding her as she kept her arms wrapped firmly around his neck. He looked outside to a night sky sheltered with stars. He still looked up, timid and entangled in thought, waiting for the girl to fall back to sleep. The world of tyranny, destruction, immortality and power, the world that had been his own for so many years, seemed so far away when holding such a blithe, petite child, when holding her in his arms. Everything paled to it, everything paled in comparison to the feeling that washed over him right now. Yes--- Vejiita, Prince of the Saiyajin, finally learned what it was to be happy.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The bedroom was secluded in darkness. Goten had had a hard time getting any sleep. It was too damn searing to sleep. But he tried. Tomorrow was another schoolday, after all. He was finally falling asleep, dozing off in thought. His best friend Trunks had graduated almost a year ago and was now more occupied with running the Capsule Corp. business than hanging out or dating Satan City's most beautiful girls. Well, that meant more girls for him, right? A firm knock was heard at the side of his bedroom window, and Goten tried hard to ignore it. He knew who was waiting for him at his window. He pulled the blanket over his head, pretending to sleep.

"Psst," a voice said, "Hey Goten!"

With an agile leap, Son Goku jumped inside his son's bedroom, looking about him in the dark, wondering if Goten was really asleep or just pretending, preparing an attack to begin their morning spar. He scratched his head.

"Goten? You awake?"

Goten muttered, pushing off his blankets. He sat up, rubbing his face drowsily.

"I was trying to get some sleep, dad," he said, complaining. "I have finals in a week and an essay due in three days. You know, school is this thing where you have to study and it determines your further future, eh? But what would you know, you never went to high school."

Goku laughed. "Come on, it's time for our sunup spar. You didn't forget, did you? You have no idea how hard it was to get past ChiChi."

"Dad, it's four in the morning. You're out of your mind." The younger Son dug his head back in the pillow. "Get back to sleep."

"Goten! Goten Son, I hear voices in there. Is someone in there with you!" ChiChi's voice carried across the small room, and she knocked firmly on her son's door. "Goten, are you even listening?"

"Crap! That's ChiChi!" Goku exclaimed. "Come on Goten, let's get out of here before she sees us. You know how she hates it when we run off in the morning and leave her with breakfast." He pushed Goten's desk chair underneath the doorknob, sealing off the entrance to his son's bedroom.

"Dad, you're crazy."

Goku laughed, grabbed Goten's arm and pulled him out of the bed, into the daybreak sky, leaving ChiChi knocking on her son's door, demanding an explanation.

"Goku! Do I hear Goku in there! Goku is that you? Answer me! Goku!"

When she finally opened the door she found both her husband and youngest son had split. Looking out the window, she found no trace of them, and closed it, knowing they'd have to pass through the kitchen to get back in there. They hadn't heard the last of her, no sirree!

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She sat at the girl's feet, feeling sick somehow. What was happening to her? Mustering all the strength she thought she had left in her, she looked up. The girl just stood, looking back.

"Who are you?" Yamuna Tacra asked timidly.

"I'm Aera Ryuujin, daughter of Uyra Ryuujin, child of Ryuuguu, and daughter of Fall Secchuukawaa, who died in battle a long time ago---"

"Uyra!" Pushing herself up from her knees, Yamuna Tacra stared at the fearless girl. She remembered that name, and things fell into place, finally. Aera was Uyra's daughter.

She felt naked, bared, she felt as if this girl could look straight through her.

"You knew my mother?" Aera enquired.

Yamuna Tacra met with her eyes, and answered without blinking. "No. I heard of her name, that's all."

The pale haired girl nodded. "Ah." She knew the killer was lying. She knew this murderer was responsible for her mother's death. She knew it in her heart. She felt it.

"Say Tacris!" Yamuna heard Menlar interfere from a distance. "Any chance of killing that nuisance of a thief before the end of the day? I'm actually looking forward to a relaxing dinner by the fire, inside, you know?" He flicked his long black hair backwards, to emphasize his contempt and blew in his folded arms, trying to warm them. Yamuna Tacra pulled up her lip in response, and turned in a flash, to find Menlar and his men laughing at her. She sneered.

"You can have your fire, fuckface!"

Throwing both clenched hands to the side of her body and opening them in front of her, she let out a scream, and the small group of soldiers caught fire. She watched them with a smile when they fell to the melting cover of snow, and died. She turned back to Aera, still smiling. Her smile faded when she became aware of Aera's merciless glare.

"They did not deserve to die," the girl said.

"Oh what do you know, Healer?" Yamuna protested.

Aera pulled the cover of her robe back over her head, and walked away. "I'm done talking to you, killer," she grumbled crossly.

Yamuna Tacra grabbed the girl by her hand, but Aera did not turn, instead, she stared ahead of her blankly.

"Love, you're not even trying. And damn, it's bloody hot underneath your cloak. Kind of cosy though," Murass said in her head.

"Murass, don't judge me," Aera remonstrated.

Yamuna blinked. "Huh?" she hesitated, however did not loosen her grib on Aera's hand. The girl was talking to someone, yet she didn't hear a thing besides Aera's pulse against the palm of her hand and the sound of her voice. What was going on? _Judge me?_ Yamuna Tacra thought to herself. _Murass, don't judge me? Murass!_

"Hey, you do remember who I am, now don't you, love? Murass, Highest of All, yadda yadda. So be Him, Judge of the Tribunal of Life and Death, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. You know what a judge is, right? Someone who judges people--- You're not suffering from sudden memory loss, are you love?" said Murass.

"I'm not, You dolt. I just don't see a point in this. Didn't You see what she just did?" Aera commented angrily, her voice suddenly raised.

"Oh, I saw. Believe me I did. I'm Murass. I see all. Quite the soap opera, isn't it, love?"

Yamuna still gaped at the girl, frowning. "Who the Hell are you talking to!"

"A what?" the cloaked girl wondered.

"A soap opera! You know, commercial TV?"

Aera didn't say a word.

"Okay--- so you don't know. No big deal. Oh and would you please ask that loudmouthed girlyfry behind you to shut the fuck up? I'm trying to focus, here," Murass spoke. "Ah, and I'd like some breathing space. I'd almost strike a pose and damn Myself for giving you a chest this big---"

Aera rolled her eyes and blushed, then took the stuffed pet out of her robe. "Better?"

"Much better, thanks. So where was I?"

"Commercial TV?" Aera suggested.

"What the fuck? Yo, are you talking to a stuffed pet?" Yamuna Tacra commented, trying to turn Aera to look at her. Aera ignored her. Murass did not.

"Damn Myself, doesn't she ever mind her own business!" Murass shouted in Aera's head, making her wince. "I swear, I'll sew her big mouth shut if she can't keep her babble to herself. Can't she see we're trying to hold a conversation here?"

Aera turned in a flash, to glance at Yamuna Tacra, whose questioning eyes stared.

"You'd better hold your tongue before you piss Him off," she said to her.

"Piss him off? Your stuffed dragon?" Yamuna wondered, confused.

"All right, that's it! I've had it with her!" Murass bellowed. Clouds gathered, and a bolt of lightening struck Yamuna on her behind, forcing her face down into the snow. When she pushed herself up she noticed her mouth was zipped shut, literally. She screamed, but failed to open her mouth and only a muffled sound was heard. She shifted around in a near panic. Aera almost felt sorry for her. Murass could be really cruel sometimes.

"Love, you ain't seen nothin' yet," Murass commented, laughing. "Serves her right to shut the Hell up for a minute. Anyways--- where was I?"

"Commercial TV?" Aera suggested.

"Ah yes!" And he trailed off again.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Trunks shot up in his bed when the alarm went off. Reaching for his alarm clock, he groaned, protesting aloud. Barely opening his eyes, he turned his head. 5:30AM the clock by the side of his bed said. He put a hand to his face, and grunted.

"It's too damn early to get up," he complained. He stood clumsily, feeling dizzy. Trunks yawned, and stumbled towards his walk-in closet, reaching for a clean shirt. Somewhat irritated, he wondered why his mother put so much discipline on him. He didn't recall her getting up this early every morning to get to work. In fact, his mother was usually last to hit the showers, usually by the time Bura had to be in school. He muttered, putting on a bathrobe, tossing the shirt on the bed, along with a spotless suit and a tie. Hastily, he walked through the door that lead to a separate bathroom, muttering.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

In spite of herself, Yamuna Tacra was pretty infatuated with Aera. She was unlike any girl she had ever met in her life. Aera was fearless but she was also vigilant. The carmine haired warrior couldn't really help herself when looking into those icy eyes of hers. When the healer seemed done talking to her stuffed pet, she looked down to her, and helped her up. Yamuna dismissed the gesture angrily, beyond herself with anger for being this helpless. What had happened to her? She couldn't open her mouth! In fact, her mouth had vanished altogether!

Aera glared at the stuffed dragon on her shoulder. She folded her arms.

"Murass, you know you promised---"

Yamuna stared at the girl. She really didn't know what to think. The doll clearly wasn't responding. Which of course was normal, since dolls were generally incapable of speech since all of them were rather inanimate and stuffed with fluff, right? She knit her brow, confusing herself more. Perhaps she was more confused than angry, she wasn't too sure. She was sure however, she didn't like this feeling.

"Murass, you promised," Aera said, sounding firmer than before.

"Yes yes, I know, love. You should work on your sense of humour. I thought it was rather funny, really." The fluffy dragon replied.

Yamuna gasped, opening her mouth. She didn't remember ever being this relieved in her life. She regained her composure, standing. She sneered at Aera, looking with a menacing glare.

"You---" she huffed.

Aera simply looked at her and put the dragon on her shoulder, glancing at it testily. She wasn't planning on allowing Murass to repeat his little stunt but with that wench so worked up there was no telling what the Highest was plotting.

"Don't worry about me, love." Murass said in her mind. "Worry about her, first."

Angrily, Yamuna Tacra snatched the stuffed doll from Aera's shoulder and tossed it to the sky. She smirked, focusing her energy. Aera opened her mouth to protest, but the Touch of Death wouldn't hear another word, uplifting a hand to shut her up. She threw her other hand over her head, and gathered her chi, firing a perfect shot onto the airborne doll.

She smirked.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

He barely avoided a full on contact with Goku's KameHameHa. Frantically, Goten tried to block his father's attempts in punching him, but his head honestly was someplace else. He remembered his first crush and somehow couldn't let go of her. He sighed, trying hard to pay attention to what Son Goku was doing. His father's face looked so much different when fighting, it was almost scary. But again, his mind drifted off and he found himself thinking of her again. Videl, he thought to himself. Satan Videl, now Son Videl--- though she was not his. She belonged to his brother. He had idealized his brother for far too long. It was time to grow out of his childhood hindrance. He had a father now. He had a father. He kept telling himself but Son Goku didn't feel like a father should feel. Son Goku more felt like a vague acquaintance, a friend of the family.

The sun was already rising. It would be time to go to school soon. He grimaced when Goku's fist contacted with his jawbone, and he felt how he fell backwards.

Before he realized what was really going on, his father's hand grabbed hold of his shirt, holding him up only centimetres from the lake below. He looked down for a second, then smiled at Goku uncomfortably.

"Heh, thanks dad," he said. "At least I won't---"

"Goten!"

Goten frowned, not knowing where the voice came from.

"Goten Son!"

With a shock, he sat up, realizing he had been dreaming again. But these weren't regular dreams. These were his memories. He remembered how his father woke him up at night, wanting to spar before the sun was up. He remembered how his father took him fishing. He remembered how much he loved spending time with him going camping, just sparring, simply spending time with him. Things were different now.

"Goten, will you get up!" His mother's loud voice boomed across his room. "You need to be in school in half an hour!" He squinted with his eyes, trying to focus. He kicked off his covers, and stood, rubbing his face.

"I'm coming, _Kaa-san_!"

Things were very different now. His father lived but he wasn't there anymore. Goku had taken him fishing and camping. Goku had sparred and played with him. When Goten was nine years old, he thought his father was the coolest dad in the world. But Goten didn't feel that way anymore. His father had left his family when he was seventeen. Not only that, his father had left to train some boy who was a complete stranger to all of them, including to Goku. All of his life, Son Goku had done things simply because he wanted to, not thinking how it might affect his loved ones. Goku sacrificed himself, Goku saved the world, and he did all of it just because he wanted to, because he loved to fight, to eat, to travel the outdoors and be able to continue enjoying it. All Son Goku longed for was a good meal, a good fight, and lots and lots of fun. Goku was a big kid. When Goten had been a kid himself he had loved it. But as he got older, Goten began to realize he needed a father, not a buddy. He had Trunks for a best friend, he didn't need Goku to be his friend. Goten came to realize his father couldn't give him what he needed. His father couldn't give him what he needed because he didn't want to. All this time, Goku had simply been a kid, looking for a good time without considering the consequences.

In all honesty, Goten resented his father for it.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

As the blast contacted with the tiny red dot that was Aera's doll, something happened, and a flash of air spread, moving in a booming circle, almost like ripples of water. Yamuna Tacra had barely realized what was going on, and only recognized the consequences when the retaliation hit her right up front. She was thrown to the snowy ground, pushed backwards against a distant tree, where she came to a halt. With loud protest, the tree came apart. She lay dazed for a moment, then shook her head, gathering her strength. She desperately tried to contain her fury but her expression told Aera the Touch of Death was rather peeved.

"Who the Hell do you think you're dealing with, Healer!" she barked, mustering her chi. She jumped up, letting her energy carry her towards the girl in one quick leap.

"You may be tougher than you look, girl---" she snapped. "But my patience has left me. You're on your own, now."

Aera pit her lip, pondering. She then held out a hand to her side, catching a perfectly fine stuffed dragon. "You okay, Murass-san?" she asked.

"Quit talking to your doll, bitch!" Yamuna screamed, beyond herself with rage.

"Actually," Murass contemplated in Aera's head, "I'm perfectly fine, thank you. She's pretty insistent, don't you agree, hm, love?"

"I guess so," said Aera.

Yamuna Tacra powered up, trying to attain Super Saiyajin. She was so pissed off, she wanted to show that stupid healer what she was capable of.

"So, you think you're ready to be her friend now, love?" Murass asked inside Aera's mind.

"No. Never. I told you already," the girl protested.

"Cut it out! You're not talking to Murass. You're crazy!"

Yamuna was still trying to power up, although not without result, she was unable to power up to Super Saiyajin. She closed her eyes, screaming. She had to show her. She had to prove no one should dare poke fun at her.

"Crazy?" Murass griped. "Look who's talking---"

Aera giggled. "That's not very nice."

"Hey, she started it! And I'm not the one who kills innocent people just for kicks," Murass said.

"I thought you said no one's innocent," Aera remonstrated, not trying to sound funny.

"Ooh, yes, almost forgot. Well, I suppose you do have a point there. But aside all that, love. Ready to be her friend yet?"

Aera glared, folding her arms in protest. "Never."

"You're feisty! That's why I love you, love. So, what to do, what to do?"

Aera heard Murass giggle at his own words; undoubtedly he was plotting something downright mean. She didn't know what to expect.

"Patience, patience, love. You'll find out soon enough." Still, Murass giggled and Aera didn't like the sound of that.

"What's wrong with my giggling?" Murass complained. "Hn—where was I?"

Murass could really be diverted sometimes. Aera sighed. She knew it was pointless to resist. She knew Murass was right.

"Of course I'm right!" the dragon said. "But—where was I?"

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: Murass is just a typical character honouring the tradition of Drag-On Ball, eh?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x


	26. Tale 23 Don't Walk Away

**BOOK III**  
**"Light To Darkness; Saviour to Destroyer"**

Tale Twenty Three---Don't Walk Away--- **  
Rating: T**

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The day had barely begun but for Trunks Briefs, business never stood still. He had an important board meeting later this very morning, regarding the new product line the Capsule Corporation was to promote next season. He wasn't particularly looking forward to any of it but he knew he hadn't much of a choice. Ignoring his frustration, he sipped from his coffee, adjusting some of the notes he had made the other night, preparing said presentation. Looking beside him he caught a photograph of him and his best friend Goten. Funny how some of the men and women in the building thought they were lovers. He snickered to himself. Even if the thought alone made him laugh over its stupidity, he welcomed the calm it brought to the department. He was actually quite sick of men and women following his every move, and tried to force him on a date. Frankly, Trunks had never really enjoyed the attention, not since the moment he'd found out the true grounds they were interested in him predominantly were his good looks and the fact his trust fund was bigger than that of even the richest entrepreneur in the universe. Trunks Briefs was wealthy, but the corporation his grandfather had founded and his mother had brought to unimaginable heights, was possibly even more prosperous.

He leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. He glanced at the photo again. The photo had been taken eight years ago, when he and Goten had been hanging at a theme park again, like they did so often when younger. He couldn't really remember the last time they had just hung out together. Although he didn't wish to admit it, he feared he and Goten were slowly drifting apart. Goten was still as much a bum as he had been for all his life, but Trunks, Trunks wasn't the brat he used to be. Trunks had become a businessman almost overnight, Trunks had been readied to take over his mother's business since he was barely fourteen years old. For the most part he hadn't liked such responsibility, and he wasn't sure he'd gotten used to any of it now.

Trunks much preferred being as laid back as Goten was. Trunks wished he, too, could be a bum. He wanted to hang around, just have fun and hang at concerts like Goten did, dragging his little niece, Pan, with him. Trunks wanted the same, except of course drag that brat Pan with him – or his snotty sister for that matter.

He chewed on a pencil, then looked at his watch. It was still too early to head for the meeting room. He hated being this early on the firm. Everything was so quiet, it made for him to feel even more depressed.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Son Goten didn't know what he wanted in life. Six months ago he had applied for a job in the police department, and after a short training, he'd been accepted like it were nothing. Honestly, Goten had only applied to satisfy his mother and had never thought he'd actually be accepted. Now, since five months, he'd been roaming the streets with his partner, Max. Boy, was he surprised when he found out Max was a girl! He snickered, holding a carton of two coffees and a root beer in one hand, and a bag of Mac Domhnaill's burgers in the other. Peering inside the car, he tapped the window, expecting Max to open the door for him. Max was unlike anyone he had ever imagined to be with the police force. Maxine was tall, with long, lean legs. Her hair was short and pale auburn. Max looked like a model. Her eyes were dark, almost black. She smiled at him, opening the door. Max looked more like someone you'd come across in a magazine than on the streets, arresting crooks.

"Get in, I'm starved," she said to him, eagerly taking the paper bag from Goten's hand. He grinned. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you were serious," he said.

She ignored him, taking one of the burgers and stuffing her face with it, almost literally. When she didn't chew down enough, she batted her chest, attempting to swallow.

Goten laughed. "Don't choke yourself," he joked.

"Fhut up, Goten Fon!" she barked at him, her mouth half-full, and turning the car key into the ignition. When the car warmed up, she didn't allow Goten to take it easy with his lunch and she sped off, moving carefully in between other traffic.

"Max," Goten began.

"What?" she spoke, in between bites from her burger, and manoeuvres from side to side of the street, recklessly drifting past cars and trucks.

"You're a terrible driver…" the Son commented, readjusting his police-belt, which was too tight after having practically eaten the burger-joint into retirement. He took another burger, pleased to find he was finally not that hungry anymore.

"Ha, tell me something I don't know!" she huffed, twisting the car around. She flicked on the siren, then called for back-up.

"This is 205 on patrol, I repeat this is 205 on patrol… request for back-up over."

Goten looked at her, then at any possible violation of Satan City Law. He didn't see anything, so he looked again, still not noticing a single violation, except maybe a blue aircar doing about 90 in an 80 zone.

"Patrol 205, go ahead, over…" the voice on the radio replied.

"Let's get even with Pedro, Baby Sue!" Max yelled into the receiver. There was a moment of silence at the other end.

"Right, carry on. Keep me posted, over and out."

Goten frowned, and stared at Maxine. "Get even with whom?"

Max laughed. "Pedro, an ex-lover. Very, very much ex, that is. Baby Sue and I both fell for his charms but he's a heartless, cheating, criminal two-timing pig…"

Goten frowned, not really catching her drift.

"He broke a lot of hearts," she continued, avoiding a full-on collision with a beer truck. "So today, we're breaking his activities. That's him in that blue convertible aircar. We're busting his fat ass right about now."

When the Son noticed Pedro was trying to get away, he got even more confused than before. What the hell was this? Was the police so corrupt they simply arrested ex-lovers just because they were assholes? Was this what the Satan City Police Dept. was really all about? Goten forgot about his coffee, and wondered how on Chikyuu Maxine could go ahead and arrest a guy simply because he had broken her heart as well as Sue-Ellen's of radio-support. What had it to do with why Goten had really joined the force; to put villains behind bars?

Although confused, Goten thought it might be best to keep his mouth shut. He liked Maxine, and knew she wouldn't do something actually illegal. Right?

Right?.!

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The sun was moving across the forest area. It was well past noon. An indistinct man moved stealthily in between trees, hauling in four leaf-barren tree trunks behind him. He didn't seem bothered by their magnitude at all. Soundlessly, he reached the edge of the forest, where a cabin lay hidden in the afternoon shadow. Smoke rose from the chimney, and he smirked to himself, tossing the gargantuan trees to the side of the cabin, where a few dozen other tree trunks, all ridden of leaves, lay piled up on top of one another.

"Just a few more," he said to himself. "I'll leave those till after my break…"

He brushed his silken black hair out of his face, and wiped his forehead. Kicking off his boots, he opened the door and walked in.

"Hey babe, I'm back. How 'bout we go out to lunch today?"

A navy blue haired girl looked up from her laptop, on which complicated rows of figures passed before her face, reflecting in a green aura.

"You serious, Juu-kun?" she wondered, staring at the man.

"Take it or leave it. And don't think too much of it. I just thought we'd take a bite over at the nearest Mac Domhnaill's, just outside of Spice City," he said, jamming his hands into the pockets of his worn down jeans.

The girl flew up, smiling from ear to ear. "I'd love to!"

She flung her arms around him, kissing him all over his face.

"I thought you hated Mac Domhnaill's…" he stated weakly, simply standing without hugging her back.

She smiled evilly. "I thought you hated food."

"_Baka_…" the man complained, rolling his pale blue eyes.

"Oh shut up, Juunana-gou," the woman replied, her dark eyes fixed on the man's. She ushered him out the door. "Let's get going."

"Alright, alright," the jinzouningen complained. "But this time, I'm driving."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Yamuna Tacra stared ahead of her faintly. She wasn't really sure what to make of any of this. That girl--- that girl had such effect on her, she didn't even understand why. She was just a feeble, weak hearted little healer, and nothing else. But why had she such grip on her?

There was something about that girl, more than her being daughter of Uyra. What had been so special about Uyra? She had reached out to her, reached out to the Touch of Death. She shook her head. She had killed her. Big deal. Apparently, it was a big deal. Was this the reason she had let this Aera live? Was it the reason she had let her go?

"You should stop thinking of me so much," a voice behind her said.

The carmine haired girl jumped and turned. The same pale haired girl stood behind her. Uyra's daughter. Her only child?

"You," Yamuna started to say, but she found herself unable to think of any words to follow.

"You could start by saying at least a decent 'hello, how are you,' if you'd ask me. And yes, I'm Uyra's only child," Aera responded fiercely.

The Saiyajin woman opposite her narrowed her eyes. "You a mind reader?" she demanded.

"What if I am?" Aera said.

"I'd have to kill you," Yamuna sniped irritably. Something in her protested, and she didn't know what it was.

"Ha. And why would my death bother you?" the other girl wondered.

Yamuna Tacra snickered. "Don't flatter yourself too much, Healer. I'm not in a killing mood today. It's got nothing to do with you."

"Oh really? I think it's got everything to do with me. And the family you took from me," Aera said, putting her hands akimbo.

Yamuna Tacra stood suddenly, irritated to be confronted yet again by the girl's superior height. She bit one of her nails, semi-casually.

"I kill randomly. Your family's death was just as meaningless as any other kill," Yamuna said.

Without thinking of any possible consequences, dangers or anything else, Aera bitch-slapped the Touch of Death. "How dare you say that!" she scoffed.

Yamuna Tacra kept her cheek turned to the pale haired girl for a moment, thinking of how to kill her fittingly. She opened her eyes, and smirked. Fixing her eyes on the girl, the Touch of Death turned to face her fully.

"I'm sure you realize what a mistake you just made," Yamuna Tacra told her.

Aera simply gauged at her, her face showing more anger than fear. She reached out her arms, open hand palms up, showing the woman opposite her her wrists. She closed her eyes. "Go right ahead and kill me, if it pleases you so much," the girl said.

The carmine haired Saiyajin looked down at the girl's wrists, thinking for a moment how it would feel if she'd actually slit her open to the full length of her arms. For another moment, she wanted to walk away. Instead, she decided against both options.

"Look at me," the Saiyajin spoke. Aera opened her eyes and did as she was told.

"That stuffed mutt still with you?" the killer asked.

Aera stared. "My dragon? Yes. He's in the basket on my back. He enjoys looking around at the scenery."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Frowning, the Saiyajin woman sought the right words. "You still talk to him?"

"Yes."

"What's he say to you?" Yamuna Tacra wondered.

Aera's face remained expressionless. She kneeled. "I'll show you," she said. She set the basket down beside her, and took the dragon doll out. "Wake up, sleepy head," she said to it lovingly.

Yamuna followed Aera's lead and kneeled also. Her frown grew deeper. Then, she raised an eyebrow, awaiting an answer. "Is he sleeping?"

"Love, you've got to be kidding Me. Why are you dragging Me into all this?" Murass asked in Aera's head, yawning excessively.

"You brought it upon Yourself, Murass-san," said Aera. She glanced at the warrior before her, estimating her reaction.

"Want to ask Him a question? Murass knows All. Murass sees All," the girl continued, looking at the carmine haired Saiyajin.

Yamuna Tacra wheezed. "I'm sure that he does. So Murass-guy… why is the Highest of All a stuffed doll?"

"Tell that dense little wench that I'm not answering her stupid question," Murass snapped in Aera's mind.

"So, what did he say, huh?" the Saiyajin asked.

Aera cleared her throat. "He said… well… He can be anything, really."

"So I gathered," Yamuna Tacra complained. "Hence the question."

"He…" Aera cut herself off, and looked at the stuffed animal by her side. "Maybe you should ask Him about some more pressing matters, first. Or just something with higher priority than His current shape."

"Yeah, I thought so. So, Murass—what's a Saiyajin?" Yamuna smirked. There was no way Aera could know what a Saiyajin was because she herself didn't even really know what exactly the Saiyajin did. So the Healer's silly little scheme with the all knowing 'Murass' would fail for sure. How could anyone ever take a girl that talked to her stuffed doll seriously? She smirked more.

"Dear Me," Murass complained inside Aera's mind. "I really don't feel like answering that question. Can't you see I'm really bored, love?"

"I did see. But just answer her question. Maybe You can tell me some more about her. It might help."

"Cheater," Murass grumbled. "Saiyajin are nearly extinct. Few of them are left. Most of them are half-breeds, like her. Saiyajin have many abilities but are generally pretty daft. Which, when looking at the specimen before you, love, isn't that much of a surprise. There, I'm done talking about monkeys."

When Aera translated what Murass had said to at least something decent, the warrior frowned upon Aera mentioning of 'monkeys'. She remembered Saiyajin were often called monkeys. But she also knew Aera had no idea what Saiyajin were. Had that stuffed mutt actually told her all this?

"Of course I told her, twit. Now stop badmouthing the both of us and fetch us a snack." For the first time, Murass spoke aloud, directing his words to the Touch of Death personally.

The impact of his voice, and the feeling that crept inside of her, made the Saiyajin gasp for air and twitch with complete and utter shock. She grabbed her head covering her ears, the blood in her brain pumping violently. The voice was unbearable.

It took her several minutes before she regained her composure. She stood up quietly, and stared at Aera. "You hungry?"

The pale haired girl nodded.

"Good, so am I," the killer replied. "Let's go."

Aera ignored the cheering and prattling Murass in her head. So He'd have His way, big deal. So He thought making fun of everything was funny. So He thought everything was a joke. She put the doll back in the basket and followed the devil girl mutely. She wasn't really sure why the killer was playing along so solemnly but she was in fact pleased that she did because she was quite starved. She longed for a decent meal. She hadn't had one in ages.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Vejiita opened the door to the Gravity Room. He had just enjoyed a more than satisfying take-out dinner Bulma had arranged. Although he had to admit he was rather fond of that woman, she was the lousiest cook he had ever laid eyes upon. He walked to the centre of the training space, towards the control panel. Flicking on the lights, he moved around quietly. That woman of his had installed brand-new devices to challenge his ever-growing strength. He smirked. He'd very much enjoy trying them out, he was sure. Locking the door behind him, he walked back to the control panel and pushed several buttons. A monotone computer voice greeted him.

"Good afternoon, Ouji-san. Welcome to the Capsule Corporation Gravity Chamber Version 6.03," the computer buzzed.

"Yes, whatever. Get on with it," Vejiita said impatiently.

"Unidentified instruction, Ouji-san. Please rephrase commands."

Vejiita folded his arms. "Expand gravity to 200G. Start initial device sequences," he spoke, almost as if he knew what it all meant.

"Confirmed Ouji-san. Initiate 200G in 10, 9, 8, 7…"

The Saiyajin no Ouji began stretching his muscles, preparing for the increase in gravity. He smirked wider.

"3, 2, 1, zero. 200G initiated. Initiate device sequences level one," the computer voice buzzed monotonously.

At that very moment, the devices Bulma had installed begun moving, launching attacks on the Saiyajin without any predominated trend.

He thought of what that woman had told him earlier that night. She had forbidden him to train their daughter. Bura was six years old, for Dende's sake! She was most definitely old enough to start her martial arts training. But in all honesty, Vejiita had to admit his daughter wasn't even interested in martial arts. Without being too obvious, Vejiita had flicked on a martial arts film. Bulma had of course turned it off immediately, the moment she found out Bura was watching violence. He huffed, blasting a device to his left. He grinned when the device shut itself down. These were stronger than the ones Bulma had installed before. When the movie had failed he had exposed Bura to a rather girly – not to mention old-fashioned – animated series called Bubba's Angels. Bubba's Angels revolved around three teenagers some weak human named Bubba sent on dangerous missions. It was full of standard martial arts so it might spur Bura into wanting to learn some of it. Alas, Bura was more interested in their outfits and make-up than anything else.

He ducked suddenly, avoiding numerous hits the devices attempted to fire at him.

He wasn't sure whether he liked Bura being that much like her mother. Bulma was feisty and when challenged she did put up a fight but physically, Bulma wouldn't stand a change against even weakling fighters. And although Bura was physically stronger, she didn't seem to bear a power even near that of a Saiyajin woman. In all honesty, Kakarotto's spawn seemed a lot stronger, even that human grandchild of his, what was her name? He didn't remember. At least that snotty wench was interested in fighting. He couldn't say as much about his own daughter. He huffed, ignoring his thoughts. Somersaulting across the gravity room, he fired several attacks in the process, taking out two more devices, and missing one by a thread.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Darken moved across the citadel. He wasn't too pleased by the Touch of Death's constant absence. Nor was he pleased to find no soldier able to report where she went. The thing was, she killed all soldiers following her. Her keen hearing, her constantly being on guard, it made following her for a nearly impossible mission. Frankly, it pissed him off. What was she doing? Why did she refuse to show at the arena anymore, even if he had planned for another demonstrative bloodbath? These past months, she hadn't even reported at the citadel once. The planet wasn't near massive but still, Darken's henchmen couldn't find her. Did he really have to do everything himself? He was sick of her ignoring his commands. Who the Hell did she think she was dealing with?

Slamming a fist against one of the central pillars in the palace hallway, he sneered an unfamiliar sound. The pillar protested, and smashed pieces of marble collapsed onto the floor. The Overlord took two more steps, then fell down, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Something was waking inside of him. Something that had been slumbering in the background for a long time awoke at long last. And it did not bode well. It did not bode well at all.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Yamuna Tacra watched Aera quietly. The girl was utterly stuffing her face as if she hadn't eaten in ages. The Saiyajin leaned back in the Councillor's chair and smirked. She was pleased to have confiscated the bastion that had belonged to the late Menlar. Menlar found no use to it anymore anyway, since Menlar was long dead. The bastion was now hers, and although the place was remote and lonely, she enjoyed the fact she was no longer dependant of that asshole, Darken.

The table was set with three different types of meat, basins and bowls of fruit and vegetables, and the finest wines the land had to offer. Aera's pet dragon sat beside the girl. A moment, Yamuna Tacra glanced at the servant bringing in more food.

"Servant…" the Saiyajin began.

Aera looked up, swallowing and washing down the food with a glass of juice. "I'm sure your slave has a name, killer," she said. Yamuna Tacra glared at Aera. "So what if she has a name. She is my servant, is she not?"

"So what if she is? She cooks, cleans, runs this entire palace by herself. You could show her a little more gratitude," Aera commented.

The servant glanced at Aera fearfully. She didn't particularly like the girl standing up for her. She was already pleased the Touch of Death had not killed her like she had killed most of the bastion's personnel.

Yamuna Tacra narrowed her eyes but complied to Aera's wishes. "Thank you, servant. That will be all. Go clean or something."

"Yes, mistress," the servant said, bowing deeply.

"Stop," Aera commanded. "Both of you."

Yamuna watched Aera, curiously awaiting what the girl was getting at this time.

"Go Aera! Go Aera! Go Aera!" the stuffed dragon hummed in Aera's head.

"Shut up, Murass," the pale haired girl complained.

Yamuna Tacra still waited, only glancing at the dragon for a second before fixing her eyes on Aera's again.

"I'm sure your servant has a name. I'm sure she'd love to be treated with a little more respect. Go on, call her by her name. And give her the rest of the afternoon off, to visit her family."

The servant almost cried with both distress as well as thankfulness for Aera's bravery.

The Touch of Death brushed her eyebrows, thinking. "Very well. I'm the one who invited you for dinner. So I might as well comply to your wishes. That's what any decent host would do." She coughed, almost laughing. "Servant, you have the day off. Be back tomorrow at dawn. Not a snippet later."

"Yes, mistress," the servant lady said. She bowed again, her white hair breaking free from her bun due to the constant stress she was currently undergoing.

"Wait. There's one more thing you forgot about, killer," said Aera. Yamuna raised an eyebrow, awaiting an explanation. "Her name," Aera continued. "You did not call her by her name."

Yamuna folded her arms. "I do not know her name," she sneered, trying to cover up her embarrassment.

"Then ask her her name!" Aera snapped.

Yamuna Tacra pulled up her lip, then shot a furious glare at the servant, who flashed her eyes down and answered in a clear voice. "My name is Lene Hallneh!" she said.

The carmine haired girl found one of her eyes began twitching again. She stood furiously. "Only speak when spoken to, servant! Now, tell me your name," she barked.

"L-Lene Hallneh…" the servant girl stammered. She was older than either of the girls but was nearly crawling on the ground, simply out of fear.

"Was that so hard, Lene?" Yamuna Tacra purred, sitting back down. "You're dismissed. Go visit your family or something. I'll see you at breakfast."

"Yes, mistress." Quickly, the servant left, still unsure whether she should simply leave as she'd been told to. She wasn't used to leaving the bastion in the first place, let alone without cleaning and doing the dishes until everything was tip-top again.

Smugly, Yamuna locked her eyes onto Aera. "Satisfied?"

"Not yet. We still have some dishes left."

"Excuse me?" Yamuna Tacra said, staring at the girl.

"You heard me. We're cleaning up this dump. Lene's done enough. She won't have to do the work that's left for today. She has a day off, remember?" Aera spoke self-satisfactory.

"You must be joking."

"Don't count on it," Aera said.

"Go Aera! Go Aera! Go Aera!" the stuffed dragon cheered in Aera's head.

"Enjoy the food before it gets cold," Aera spoke, ignoring Murass shouting in her head enthusiastically. She took a bite from a bird's leg, dipping the meat in a piquant Arlu sauce.

"Say, you're still eating that?" the Healer asked, pointing at the steak on Yamuna Tacra's plate. Staring incredulously, Yamuna Tacra shook her head. Who the Hell did this girl think she was dealing with?

And how come in the name of all things horrible, was she able to get away with it?

"Go Aera! Go Aera! Go Aera!" the stuffed dragon continued to cheer in Aera's head.

Aera laughed dotingly.

Yamuna Tacra continued to stare. She just didn't get any of it.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Goten felt really bad. Sitting next to Maxine, he didn't say a word for the remainder of the afternoon. Only when his shift was nearly over did Max confront him with his sudden stillness.

"Goten," she said, pulling over the car by the police station. "You have to understand that our force is not corrupted. We didn't go after Pedro for personal reasons only. The reason we really busted Pedro was because we'd been monitoring him for quite some time. Apparently, Pedro's business of selling lady's underwear wasn't all that legal—"

Goten frowned, then snickered sarcastically. "What? He was selling illegal panties?"

Maxine laughed, throwing her head back slightly. "No, no, of course not." Her face turned serious again, revealing sadness. "He was using his business as a cover to smuggle drugs. And his drugs killed a friend of mine. When I went undercover I had a hard time not falling for his charms. I had to be reminded he'd killed my best friend at all time. Pedro was that sly. He was able to sweep me off my feet almost. I'm not the kind of woman to fall for a man that easily, especially not a bastard like Pedro. It's a long story and we've been working undercover for a long time. Now that I – we – caught him speeding, we had just the one reason to search his car. And you know why he resisted an arrest… it was not just because of seeing me…"

Goten saw Maxine was struggling with the situation. He found it difficult to understand why beside the fact he had shot Pedro in the head. He sighed, putting an arm around her shoulder. He wouldn't let himself get all the credit, he knew that much. Max had had every right to kill Pedro, now that he'd heard her story. He bit his lip.

"Look Max," he said, wondering how he'd best deal with this situation. "Pedro had enough drugs aboard to supply the full population of Satan City with ecstasy and then some. During the pursuit he caused a collision in which a mother and her twelve-year-old son got severely injured. He resisted an arrest, and tried to kill us. You did the right thing in shooting him."

"I know. It's just that--- I wished we could've thrown him in jail, you know? I just never really enjoyed seeing someone get killed. And--- this was your first kill, right?"

Goten widened his eyes, pulling his arm back. "What do you mean?"

"Goten, I know you shot him in the head. I would've missed. And if you hadn't shot him at that exact moment, he would've killed me instead. I've been a cop a lot longer than you have. I know you fired that shot. And I know I missed. It's not easy to kill a man, even if he is the bad guy. It's never easy. And it won't get any easier in time. What I'm trying to say is…" She paused looking Goten straight in the face. "You did a good job."

The Son really saw no reason in trying to argue with her. Although he hadn't known Maxine that long, he knew there was no arguing with her. "Thanks, Max," he said. "See you tomorrow."

Goten got out of the car, saluted Maxine and turned to leave. This hadn't been his first collision with death. Well, it had been his first time killing a fellow human being but back in the times he was still a kid he had fought Majin Buu. He remembered what it was like to stare death in the face. And even though he wished he could compare the two, he knew Pedro would never have been able to kill him, whereas Majin Buu would have. All right, so he hadn't destroyed Buu, he did know everything about it was different from what happened today. Although Goten had hoped joining the police forces could provide him with a challenge, he knew it didn't. Had a bullet hit Maxine, she would've been either severely injured or killed. Had a bullet hit Goten, nothing would've happened. It almost seemed… unfair.

Maybe joining the police hadn't been such a good idea after all. Perhaps his brother was right. Perhaps it was time to breathe the Great Saiyaman back to life, if only to spare the lives of innocent people as well as crooks. Pedro had deserved to be punished for his deeds, not by dying but by living the rest of his life behind bars. And had the Great Saiyaman been present, that mother and son wouldn't have had to be in hospital. Although Maxine had told Goten they were lucky to have not been killed, Goten knew it wasn't luck. Goten knew the Great Saiyaman could've prevented all this.

He really wasn't too sure what to do with all this. Maybe it was time to actually ask his brother Gohan for advice, even if he really wanted to solve this by himself. Gohan knew a solution to everything, after all.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Vejiita had been in that Gravity Room for hours. Honestly, Bulma was sick of it. All right, so it meant her inventions were appreciated by that cranky Saiyajin Prince, it didn't mean he had the right to stay in there till – she looked at the clock beside her bed – three in the fucking morning!

She slipped out of bed and grabbed her robe. Just at that exact moment, Vejiita dragged himself into the bathroom, taking a shower. She sighed, muttering. Taking off her robe again, she went back to bed. She'd wait for him. He wouldn't get away with it so easily.

Although Bulma tried to stay awake – and angry – she soon found herself drifting off into a dreamless sleep, curled up at the left side of the bed. She didn't even notice when Vejiita entered, casting a long shadow across her face with the dim hallway light. He looked awful. In fact, Vejiita felt pretty awful.

He sat at the far edge of the bed, his back bent forward, indicating how horrible he really felt. He had tried to push everything away for so long but he really couldn't help himself. The nightmares had become too profound lately, keeping him awake at nights. He had never forgotten what had happened, he had never forgotten all those terrible things he'd done. He had known Furiiza had murdered his father, he had known Furiiza had murdered each and every Saiyajin simply because he was afraid of them. Yes, Furiiza had been afraid of what Saiyajin could achieve when in numbers but that wily little lizard had forgotten about the Saiyajin capacity to grow only stronger. Furiiza had tortured Vejiita endlessly, Furiiza had sent Zarbon and Dodoria after him to torture him even more, Furiiza had killed him, and destroyed his entire inheritance. But all that didn't matter to Vejiita much. The thing that really haunted Vejiita still was the fact Furizza had taken his pride from him. Vejiita had honestly thought he found pleasure in destruction. Vejiita had honestly thought he had enjoyed all the slaughter, for he thought it was in his Saiyajin blood. But it wasn't his Saiyajin heritage that got him to become the manslayer that he was for so long, it was the fact Furiiza had gotten deeper than the Saiyajin Prince wanted to admit. Vejiita had honestly thought his life was about destruction and becoming the strongest in the universe. He had thought it was the most important thing in his life, he had thought it was the one thing that drove him. But he had been proven wrong. And, which was the most painful, a weak hearted _baka_ he despised, Kakarotto, had shown him the war going on inside of him was wrong – and above all – pointless. He knit his brow, pushing away his memories.

He remembered the fear that got to him each time he heard those footsteps coming his way. He remembered how he tried to fight and was broken, every single time. He remembered how he tried to resist, how he tried to grow strong enough to at least stand a change but in the end, Vejiita had never gotten even close to defeating his demons for they were mostly in his head. The resentment he felt for Zarbon weren't necessarily caused by the disrespect and anger Zarbon fed in the Saiyajin's heart by the constant mortification and whipping he was forced to endure. The resentment was mostly fed by the endless fury that quelled in his soul for the fact he was helpless even against Furiiza's puny little minions. The fact he was a Saiyajin didn't help either. Vejiita's pride was fed by the constant mockery that lived amidst all other soldiers that operated under Furiiza's rule but most of all it was fed by Furiiza's own contempt and the fact Vejiita was utterly helpless against that disrespecting lizard.

But what really made Vejiita feel bad right now was because it didn't bother him anymore. His life had changed by a hundred and eighty degrees. His life had been turned upside down. He lived a suburban life, blessed with two strong children, and a beautiful wife that could match him in every way possible. And even if he refused to admit it, Kakarotto was no longer his most hated adversary, he was his friend. No matter how stupid Kakarotto was, Kakarotto understood what it meant to be a warrior. Kakarotto may be more powerful, Vejiita realized Kakarotto had a strong deficiency for Kakarotto was unable to be there for his family, unable to share a bond with his woman equal to the bond Vejiita shared with Bulma. Kakarotto was deficient as a family man. And no matter how Vejiita looked at it, he wasn't ashamed to admit he liked being there for his family.

Suddenly, the worries and fears that had washed over him for years, that had slowly crept into his soul were washed away with the realization he shouldn't be ashamed of the fact he was both a warrior and a family man. He had known in his heart all along this was his sole drive. His drive no longer beheld to feed his pride or to be the strongest warrior alive. No, what really drove Vejiita was to hold on to what made him happy. And in all honesty, said happiness made him stronger than he would ever have thought. His children loved him. And he was there for the both of them, even if he hadn't always been there for Trunks, he was now, and the brat knew it. He rubbed his face, then turned to look at Bulma. His woman seemed happy enough with him, and their sex-life well--- their sex-life sizzled. He smirked, then stirred Bulma awake.

The woman opened her eyes drowsily. Upon realizing she'd fallen asleep she sat up, wanting to scold Vejiita. Before being able to say a word, Vejiita pressed his lips against hers, ushering her back down. Tugging on her nightgown, and caressing her hips, Bulma couldn't resist Vejiita for long and easily forgot why she was angry with him in the first place.

Vejiita, Prince of the Saiyajin, realized there was no shame in being happy.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She found him lying face down in one of the vast hallways of the palace. She frowned, kneeling by his side. His body was cold and stiff. Was he dead?

She turned him on his back, his face was all but ripped open. He looked almost unrecognisable.

Yamuna Tacra stood, wanting to walk away. Darken couldn't really be dead, could he?

She frowned, unsure whether to stay or get the Hell out of there. Something was wrong.

She turned away, thinking hard, trying to figure out what was going on.

In a flash, Darken opened his eyes, smirking. The fact his face was half-eaten didn't seem to bother him at all, and he sat up. "Walk away. Walk away," he whispered.

Yamuna Tacra rotated, facing him.

"Leaving so soon?" Darken asked, his voice suddenly at full capacity.

"Who said anything about leaving?" she replied semi-carelessly.

Darken broadened his smirk, standing. Only now did Yamuna Tacra noticed one side of his face was fully gone. It looked unnatural and disgusting.

"You looked in the mirror lately?" she said to him, pointing at his face.

Before Yamuna was done pointing, Darken threw up a hand, which threw the girl backwards without touch. She was gushed against a pillar, that collapsed under the pressure. She bared her teeth, powering up.

"You must be joking, fragile little thing," said Darken in an unfamiliar tone of voice, the impact of his words almost sounded like the one incident when Murass had spoken to her and she crouched, powering up further. "Shut up!" she yelled at him.

Darken gathered his energy, then concentrated it into a flickering little ball of light at the tip of his fingers. His eyes were dark and he seemed to enjoy himself tremendously. When the ball of energy shot forward, the girl hadn't enough time to avoid it and as the ball contacted with her shoulder, it exploded. The girl would never have thought that old, senile man would be able to attack her with his spirit-energy. Had he even such a thing?

The man laughed and approached her. She had a hard time getting up and lay covered in a pile of rubble. Through eyes that glared incredulously as well as furiously, she looked up to his smirking face.

"So fragile---" he spoke, his voice making her want to scream out in pain.

"Just shut up," she hissed, as she got up.

Throwing an arm backwards, Darken attempted to hit her, she blocked his attack by putting her own arm in between his and her neck. She narrowed her eyes. "Idiot," she sneered.

At that, Darken moved his other hand backwards, firing the same strike at her. Again, she blocked the assault, this time with her other arm. She shot him an indignant glare.

He laughed, then head-butted her.

She fell down and didn't get up this time. Darken only laughed, his deep shadow casting all the way over the girl, draping her in darkness.

"So foolish, so fragile…" the man murmured.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: Ooh! An actual cliff-hanger! How about that?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x


	27. Tale 24 Epiphany

**BOOK III**  
**"Light To Darkness; Saviour to Destroyer"**

Tale Twenty Four---Epiphany--- **  
Rating: M**

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: Violence. And cruelty. Don't forget about cruelty.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Juunana-gou kept his eyes on the road, ignoring the endless chatter the woman by his side produced. Although more consumed by driving his good old truck and watching the traffic unfold before him, hardly a word of what the woman said escaped him. In fact, the android was waiting for her to scold him for never listening to her, so he could prove once more that he actually hadn't missed a thing of the meaningless bullshit she gushed over him verbally. That mouth of hers… that mouth of hers was something else. He laughed.

"What are you laughing over, Juu-kun?" she asked him, brushing loose strands of navy-blue hair behind her ear.

He glanced at her. "Oh, it's nothing you said, babe. It's just that I still haven't gotten used to how much you eat. You sure you're a puny little human?" She looked at him, then sneezed. Her features changed in that sneeze. Her hair turned blond, her eyes shifted from black to green. She glared at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she said briskly. "You say I look fat? You say I eat too much! What's with you! You never eat in the first place!"

"Don't drag me into this!" the android snapped back at her. From the inside he almost felt like laughing louder than before. He knew where most of their arguments lead them and he was in fact already waiting for it.

"This is about you in the first place!" she scorned him. "It's about your problem with how much I eat. I eat perfectly normal portions. And I'm not puny!"

Seventeen grinned, not bothering to watch the traffic. His senses outmatched those of anyone on the road by far so why should he watch out? She looked rather angry, he thought to himself. She was always so much fun when angry. Well, except when she was beyond angry and had sneezed. Absolute Hell broke loose upon that woman being angry and sneezing. But then, there was a fun side to that, too. He loved their fist fights, he loved their gun fights. And well, he loved their verbal fights just as much. He smirked.

"I know what you're thinking, Juunana-gou," she told him angrily. "But I'm not puny." She folded her arms, and the android caught himself staring how the cleavage of her breasts grew bigger. As her boobs bounced over her arms, he slowly looked up at her, meeting with her infuriated glare. All right, Ziyuu may be able to take care of herself but that didn't deny the fact she was still a puny little human. He laughed, and pulled over his car.

"Yes you are," he said.

"Am not!" she scoffed, loading a gun she pulled out of a small capsule. "And don't you dare laugh at me, you fucking number!" She aimed, readying to fire.

"Are too," Seventeen said, not taking her all too seriously. "Talking about numbers…" he suggested, "planning on wearing that red little number I gave you for your birthday?"

Something about her features changed the moment Juunana-gou tried to change the subject. For a second the android thought she was actually upset this time. She lowered her gun, her face nearing his. He could see the green in her eyes shifting with fury.

"Excuse me?" The woman pulled out another gun, loading. "Excuse me!" she repeated. "You insult me, first about my driving skills, then about how much I ate back at Mac Domhnaill's. But even that's not enough for you mister, oh no, not enough by far. No--- to cake things, you call me puny. Who are you calling puny, you fucked up, insignificant lumberjack!" She opened the door and got out of the car. "Jackass!" she yelled at him as she threw the door shut. She rested the rifles on her shoulder, preparing to shoot him. Juunana-gou in turn stared at her. He didn't get it. Was this another part of her games? What did she expect him to do? He narrowed his eyes suddenly, then drove off, leaving Ziyuu by the side of the road, engulfed in a cloud of dust. She fired the guns over and over till they continued to click, indicating she was out of bullets. The cloud of dust made her sneeze and the clicking stopped.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She groaned, rubbing her face. Her entire body felt horribly sore, sorer than she ever recalled. She didn't want to open her eyes, as even those felt painful.

She coughed attempting to breathe, and tried to get up. Hesitantly, she tried to look about her. She could barely even open her eyes in the first place. She didn't remember much, only fragments. What had happened?

"You're probably wondering what happened—" She tried to locate where the voice came from. Darken… if that low-hearted bastard had anything to do with this, she'd…

"You'd what?" the man said. "Go Super Saiyajin on me?" He laughed. "You and I both know that was simply a one time incident. In fact, everything about you strikes me as rather disappointing."

Yamuna Tacra gritted her teeth. "Don't count on it," she spoke.

He laughed, louder this time. "Haven't you ever wondered where it is you came from?" he said, catching her attention, however only for a second. She wiped her mouth, trying to wash off dried blood. Her head felt like it could burst open any minute.

"If that means you're gonna bother me with one of your boring stories again, please leave it."

"I created you, surely you can show me a little more respect?" he said to her, walking in small circles around her. His footstepts and the ticking of his walking stick echoed across the vastness of the royal hall, making her nervous.

"Respect?" she bit at him. "What do you know of respect?"

"I created you, Tacris Yamnar," he spoke, his voice frightfully calm.

"Don't call me that!" she yelled.

"It is your name, Tacris," he replied ever so calmly. He still walked around her, which disrupted her even more.

"It's not my name!"

"Your father had a lot more patience and honour in him---" said Darken.

She stood wobbly, glaring at him. "What do you know of my father? You killed him like you killed everyone, I bet."

Darken laughed, putting a hand on her shoulder. She dismissed his gesture crossly.

"I wouldn't dare taking credit that befalls upon you, Tacris. It was you who destroyed half the population. But then, no one ever said they didn't deserve to die…" He smiled, showing her a hint of what appeared to her as pride. "And in all honesty, yes, I did exterminate your father," he said.

"Exterminate?" she huffed. "You speak of him as if he was no more than an insect."

Darken suppressed a smile. "He was able to sustain my attention a lot longer than you ever did, Tacris."

"Quit calling me that!"

"You want to know, don't you, Tacris?" he asked.

"Shut up," she snapped.

"Wrong answer." He swung his walking stick against the back of her neck and she collapsed, her sore arms and legs unable to pull her back up, her head too heavy to rise from the cold marble floor.

"Now that you've calmed down a bit, I'll tell you everything," Darken said, finally revealing the other side of his face, which looked as gruesome and deformed as the last time Yamuna Tacra had laid eyes upon him. She closed her eyes when he bent over, grabbed her by her tail and dragged her deeper into the corridors of Ryuuguu citadel. She couldn't fight back. She didn't know why but she just couldn't fight back.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Trunks was definitely pleased to have the day off. He had yearned for some time away from work for a very long time. It was almost as if a load had been taken from him when he woke up that morning. He smiled to himself, and took a shower in his private bathroom. He lifted his head up to let the cool water caress his cheeks. As he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel he couldn't help but think having days off was definitely something he could get used to. He didn't remember ever having felt this carefree since early childhood. Putting a towel around his waist, he walked back into his bedroom. He smiled wider, loving the thought of not having to shave for a change.

He put on some old jeans and a black shirt that said _Capsule Corporation_ on it. He grabbed for his boots, and stepped into them easily. Quickly wringing some gel in his hair he rushed out of the house, taking to the sky from the mansion's vast backyard. Goten was in for a surprise to be able to hang with his best friend all day, Trunks knew. He smirked, speeding off into the distance.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Angered by the man's rude behaviour, she decided to walk towards the town far below the road where he'd left her behind. Juunana-gou could be such an asshole sometimes. As the town came nearer she noticed it had only a couple of houses, a gas-station with a diner attached and a bar at the edge of the village. She entered the diner. It was almost completely empty, save an elderly man sitting by the bar and the waitress, who was at least twice Ziyuu's age and looked like she'd been in the sun too long. She blew circles of smoke with her cigarette, her eyes dull and bored.

"What can I getcha?" she asked. Her hair was bleached and had an orange shine to it. It look dry and frail, much like her skin.

Ziyuu smiled at the waitress. "I'd like a steak, preferably served with carrots," the girl said. "Where can I get myself cleaned up?" she continued.

The woman by the counter laughed mockingly. "We dun serve steak here, missy. Ye can get the daily special. And ye can clean yerself up in the restroom."

Ziyuu blinked. She would really have liked a steak for dinner but the daily special would have to do. "What's the daily special?" she asked.

"Pork chops and beans in gravy," the waitress replied. "With either beer or coffee."

"Beer will be fine," Ziyuu said. "Thanks."

"Ye're very welcome," the woman snorted sarcastically.

She walked to where the woman had pointed, noticing the restrooms were at least as filthy as the entire diner was and she made a disgusted face. Looking in the mirror, she wondered what made Juunana-gou think she ate too much. She wasn't overweight at all. So her chest was the size of two watermelons; that didn't give him the right to poke fun at her! She gritted her teeth, cleaning her face. Juunana was just plain unfriendly.

As she walked back to the front of the diner she sat down by one of the dusty old windows, looking outside.

"There ain't much to see there, young misses," the old man at the bar said to her. "Only the desert." He laughed through his toothless mouth, hissing. "Unless ye're waiting fer someone."

"I'm not waiting for anyone," said Ziyuu. She turned away her face, looking out again.

"Yer fine figure and that blue dress call out. Ye sure ye're not waiting fer someone?" the man declared, almost choking on his beer.

The waitress walked towards Ziyuu from behind the counter, handing her a beer. "Dun listen to that old pervert," she said to the girl. "Jii-chan always does that with new folk." The woman turned and walked away. "You'll get yer food in a bit, missy."

"Say blue, you still single?" the old man yelled when the waitress had vanished into the kitchen, behind the counter.

Ziyuu took a sip from her beer, trying hard to stay polite, and she sunk away in her chair. She really hated situations like these. Usually Juu-kun would come to save her. Now she was on her own. And she wasn't really planning on losing her cool; once a day would be more than enough. She wasn't even sure how she'd ended up here, except that Juunana-gou had been in a strange mood.

"Blue, you single?"

"Jii-chan!" the waitress yelled from inside the kitchen. "I heard that. Now leave that missy alone!"

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Trunks smiled when the tiny Son house came into his sight. He hadn't been there in so long. He rang the doorbell, elated by the mere sound of it. Only now did he realize how much he missed the olden times, when he and Goten had still been teenagers, roaming the streets, hanging out in the big city, doing nothing in particular. He smiled when Gyu Mao opened the door.

"Morning, Gyu Mao-san," he said politely. The old man smiled at him. "Come on in, Trunks-kun!" he said. "Why, I haven't seen you since you were this tall!" He gestured with his hands, somewhere near his waist. Trunks laughed, and followed the man into the kitchen where he found ChiChi preparing dinner.

"Who was it, dad?" she asked without turning to look.

"It's Trunks," Gyu Mao said. The black haired woman turned, wiping her hands on her apron. "Well, if it isn't Trunks Briefs, our very own corporate president!" she said, bowing, then holding out her hand to take his. "I haven't seen you in ages, dear. It's good to see you."

Trunks smiled politely, shaking her hand somewhat awkwardly. "I… uh… I came to see Goten. Is he in?"

"You just missed him, dear. He went out for work."

"Work?" Trunks stared in rather disbelief. "You mean, Goten has an actual job!"

The woman standing opposite him beamed at his words. Gyu Mao smiled, rolling his eyes, and he sat down at the kitchen table picking up the newspaper he had been reading before.

"Oh yes," said ChiChi. "Although I'm not positively jubilant over the fact his career does involve a risk or two, I'm so happy he finally got a job!"

Trunks nodded, still fairly confused. "I see… so what job are we talking about?"

Gyu Mao laughed, looking up from the paper. Trunks glanced at him.

"Why, Goten-kun joined the force!" the Ox King exclaimed enthusiastically.

"The force?" Trunks wondered, raising an eyebrow. "That sounds futuristic."

"No it doesn't," ChiChi said, quite exasperated by her father's silliness. "He's an officer with the Satan City Police Department."

Trunks couldn't help but laugh. ChiChi glared at him, which made him get a hold of himself. "Not funny?" he wondered.

"Not at all. His job requires absolute devotion from his part. Keeping a metropolis as massive as Satan City safe is not something to joke about, Trunks Briefs." ChiChi shot him a stern look, to emphasize her words as she begun chopping up carrots at a frightening speed. Trunks could only agree. Then, his face softened and he relaxed a little. ChiChi always got on his nerves, and he wasn't too sure why. There just was something scary about that woman.

"Then I guess I'll have to head for the SCPD headquarters to find him, right?"

ChiChi shook her head. "Don't expect any help from me, Trunks-kun. Goten's at work. You shouldn't distract him with… whatever you wanted to distract him with."

"Sure!" Trunks exclaimed, saluted politely, and walked out of the house, leaving ChiChi to stick her head out of the kitchen window, yelling.

"Trunks Briefs! You leave my boy to his work! You heard me! Trunks!"

Gyu Mao still laughed from behind his newspaper. ChiChi didn't think it was funny at all and glared at her father. "What's so funny, dad?" she bit at him.

"Oh lighten up, ChiChi," Gyu Mao retorted, still laughing. "It didn't look like Goten was ever gonna get a job in the first place… or wanted one for that matter. I doubt he'd risk losing this job though. Not with that cute colleague of his." He winked but ChiChi didn't get any of what he was saying, let alone his winking.

"Cute colleague?" she wondered, picking up a wooden spoon from the kitchen counter. Slowly, she began to stir the soup inside the kettle on the stove, and a gentle smoke rose to the kitchen ceiling.

Gyu Mao only laughed.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"Oh, come on, Max!" Goten complained. "Why do I always have to be the delivery boy!"

Maxine laughed, a laughter filled with both pity and pleasure. "You're the newbie. I'm not. Besides, we only had a boy's pizza suit."

"That's not fair," said Goten, folding his arms.

"Hey! Life's not fair, get over it." She leaned in closer, making him blush, which made her laugh even more. "Don't worry, Goten-chan. I'll protect you," she whispered to him sweetly.

Goten rolled his eyes as he got out of the car. "You're the devil."

Maxine waved him a kiss. "Go get 'em, pizza boy!"

With a thud, Goten closed the door, shaking his head at Maxine disapprovingly. The suit he was wearing was absolutely ridiculous; he looked like a pizza. He made a face, walking to the porch of the old house. He glanced at Maxine for a second, who looked rather cute with the Phat Pizza Pimps Delivery Service hat on as she gestured him to get closer as she had instructed him to do. Phat Pizza Pimps. What a name for a pizza joint, the Son thought in an instant, as he read the letters on the side of their van. He turned, preparing to ring the doorbell. He really didn't know what to expect of an undercover job with a cover this retarded.

Before he was able to touch the doorbell, the door flung open. Goten definitely hadn't anticipated people this eager for pizza, that much was certain, and the door hit him square in the jaw.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She wanted to rub her nose, only to find she couldn't move her hands. What was going on? Confused, she knit her brow and grunted when trying to break free. She opened her eyes, meeting with a world she had banned out of existence long ago. In the centre of a disinfected laboratory, she lay on a cold, metal table, her hands and feet bound, her head strapped down with a tight steel band. She tried to turn to see who stood next to her but in all reality, she knew who he was.

"What the hell have you done now, old man!" she snapped at him furiously.

He rubbed her cheek with a careless hand, and smiled. "Don't you worry, Tacris. Things will be quite all right in a bit," he said to her. She bared her teeth, growling.

"Let me go, you moron!" she yelled.

"There is absolutely no need to scream, Tacris. And it will be pointless at that," he spoke, turning away from her to look into some tattered old manuscript. "However, you might give me a slight headache. It will be only for the best—so you might want to shut up for a minute and listen to what I have to say."

"There's nothing you can say or do that will ever change my mind," she protested.

"Ah but you're mistaken there," Darken pointed out. He turned several pages, then his eye fell onto something. He smirked devilishly, and grabbed for one of the smaller knives that lay rendered on the small, sterile table next to him. He swung around and drove the knife into Yamuna's chest. He watched her as she let out a howl of pain, her body revolting against the sudden gust of unnatural pain, wondering what went through that brain of hers. He laughed, without making a sound, continuing to scrutinize her, and enjoying every minute of it. When the girl stopped moving, part of him was surprised to be confronted with her ruthless glare.

"What, Darken? You plan to kill me? You plan to torture me?" She panted, searching for air, feeling how her heart thumped against a piece of metal that felt unnatural and cold. She wondered how long it would be until her heartbeat would slow down and die. But the thought only lingered at the back of her head. Her anger was more profound, her fury was more profound than anything right now. She pitied the man who had done this to her. She actually pitied him.

"You want me dead? You want to destroy me? Go right ahead." Her eyes were still fixed on him, when beads of sweat begun to trickle down her face, onto her chest. The pain was digging its way into her spine but she ignored it. Pain was for weaklings.

"You still don't get it, do you, Tacris?" Darken hissed, as he narrowed his lifeless eyes.

"Get what, old man!" She regretted having raised her voice the moment she felt the gust of throbbing pain surge across her chest when she breathed in. She heaved, heavier than before. For a second, she looked down to her chest, barely being able to see the tip of the knife's handle, her head restricted by the shackles binding her.

"There is still so much you cannot see. There is still so much you refuse to see," he spoke.

He pulled out the knife, putting his hand against her chest. Apart from a minor twitch, she didn't protest, even if part of her wanted so badly. She just gauged at him. "Things are different now. Because now it's too late," he mused.

She blinked, feeling how a sense of weariness was beginning to take over, drowning her consciousness into some sort of lethargic state of mind. "Too late for what?" she whispered.

"Too late to go back. Too late for amends. Too late for everything but total…" He seemed to grow as idle as she, but she wasn't too sure. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. Maybe it really was too late. "Too late for everything," he said. "Everything but total… darkness…"

She screamed when her brain reconnected with her body. She screamed unwillingly, uncontrollably, she screamed for him to stop. She begged for him to stop. She screamed and screamed, until her voice gave away. She screamed because in that excruciating moment in time, as she lay helplessly suspended in between who she used to be and who she was about to become, it was all she could do.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Ziyuu realized the beer was going straight to her head the moment she stood. A feeling of euphoria washed over her, and her cheeks were flushed with excitement, the need for more. She had missed this feeling. She had missed it so much. She stumbled towards the counter, smiling at the waitress who was more occupied by the television set at the edge of the counter than anything else.

"Could I have another one?" the navy blue haired girl asked.

The waitress turned to look at her, lines of tiredness showing in her face. "Don't you think you had enough by now? It's late—maybe you should go home," the woman said to her.

Ziyuu snorted, although it was a somewhat friendly snort. "Meh. What's that suppose'to mean?"

The old man who was still sitting at the bar grinned. "Yeah, what's that supposed to mean!" he complained, mingling into the conversation.

"Shut up, old man!" the waitress yelled angrily.

The man laughed. "Say blue, there's a bar further down the street. Care to join me?"

Ziyuu just stared at him, her feet feeling way too heavy for her own good. She didn't say a word.

"I'll toss in some free drinks," the old man bargained, wiping his greasy old hands on his tattered, checkered shirt.

"Drinks?" Ziyuu beamed. "Now you're talkin'!" Without considering her usually impeccable taste in men, she joined the saggy, drunken old man to the town's local drinking hole.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

It didn't take long before Trunks reached Satan City's police headquarters. He was actually slightly surprised to find out Goten was working at the headquarters, but mostly he was surprised over the fact the police refused to tell him in which department his best friend worked, despite everyone knowing who Trunks Briefs was. They still didn't tell him, simply because it was protocol. They wouldn't tell any random Joe, they wouldn't tell even Kami, so they wouldn't tell the president of Capsule Corporation either.

He stood outside, lighting a cigarette. He didn't know when Goten would make it back to the station but he would wait for him anyway. Putting a foot against the rear wall, and leaning back a little, he simply waited.

He watched how the smoke rised, curling upwards in odd shapes. He didn't know of Goten having a job. He hadn't even known Goten had been thinking of getting a job. Could it be, he and his best friend were slowly drifting apart? Or – which was worse – had they already grown apart? Although in all honesty, he saw Goten as often as he could, he had to admit it was usually Goten coming over and keeping their friendship alive. He really loved Goten but ever since he had become the CEO of Capsule Corporation, his spare time had gone from constant to virtually non existent.

Cars drove on and off, but none of the police officers attending or leaving the bureau even remotely looked like Goten. When he had finished smoking his fifth cigarette and was just beginning to think he should quit that habit, he decided he had been waiting for way too long. If he couldn't spend his day off with Goten, he'd spend it differently. He wasn't going to throw away his first day off in six months waiting at the corner of a busy street, where people continued to bother him with stupid questions. Aren't you Trunks Briefs, CEO of Capsule Corp. Industries? Stupid. He snorted, tossing his only half smoked cigarette in the gutter. He walked away, and jammed his hands into the pockets of his worn down jeans.

"Hey, didn't you know littering was against the law?" said a voice.

Trunks turned.

"Goten!" Trunks exclaimed. "…"

They both laughed, and Trunks walked up to him, hugging his friend tightly.

"I wasn't sure it really was you, but I thought 'might as well'," Goten said. "I mean, there's not much mistaking with hair like that!" He tousled Trunks' lavender hair with a loving hand, laughing.

"Mind the do!" Trunks complained, protecting his hair. He lit up, smiling with relief. "So, you're off duty, copper?"

Goten pushed his friend teasingly. "Yeah. Aren't you supposed to be in office?"

"Nope."

"Yosh'!" Goten exclaimed. "Let's get us some early dinner. I'm starving!" Where he was first eagerly walking to the nearest Mac Domhnaill's, now the Son halted dead in his tracks, and Trunks frowned at him. "Max," Goten said, in an attempt to explain. Trunks still frowned, not understanding.

"My colleague."

"Ah," said Trunks.

Goten turned, and rushed back to the car, opening the door. He stuck his head inside. Trunks couldn't really hear what he was saying, so he walked a bit closer, to see Goten's colleague; a woman with pale auburn hair, and big eyes. She looked rather cute, actually.

When Goten closed the door, and waved at Maxine driving off, Trunks folded his arms, shooting his best friend a meaningful look.

"What?" Goten wondered.

"Colleague, eh?"

"Yes. Max and I—" Goten started to say.

"Max?" Trunks snorted. "You sure you're just colleagues?"

"It's short for Maxine, in case you're wondering. And yes, we're just colleagues. What are you getting at?" the Son replied innocently. He brushed a hand through his long, black hair.

Trunks laughed, and put an arm around his best friend, leading him further down the street. "Nothing. It's just that she's hot."

"Hot?" Goten asked.

"Hot. Cute. Gorgeous. Stunning. Kami did hand you a pair of eyes, didn't he?" Trunks said semi-mockingly, winking at the Son.

Goten blinked. Then he started to laugh loudly.

"What's so funny?" his friend wondered.

The Son simply continued laughing. "Nothing!" he wheezed. "Just that it's only now I get Maxine's joke."

Trunks stopped, pulling his arms away from Goten and placing them akimbo. Goten laughed only louder.

"She…" he stammered, almost choking in his laughter. "She thought you and I…" He bent over, his hand on Trunks' shoulder for support. "You and I…"

"You and I, what?" Trunks demanded, lowering one eyebrow, expecting something that wouldn't be funny at all. He knew Goten; his sense of humour was just retarded.

"She thought you and I were a couple!" Goten screamed, laughing like a Son idiot. Trunks made a face, jumping backwards. The black haired man opposite him suddenly stopped laughing, and his face turned serious. "She thought you were gay. With the hair, and the tight jeans… and…" Again, he started to laugh.

Trunks folded his arms. "That's not funny. That's not funny at all."

Goten patted his friend on the back, and crossed the street, Trunks following reluctantly.

"Well, you winked at me, Trunks. That was what actually made it so funny. Besides, it's ridiculous. Doesn't that make it a little bit funny?"

Trunks shook his head, pushing his friend light-heartedly. "I guess it does." Trunks bit the inside of his cheek angrily. If one of them was gay, it must be the policeman, not him! He grinned, pushing away his sudden anger and turning it to mischief.

"And despite her horrible sense of humour," Trunks continued. "She's still really hot— So, are you sleeping with her?"

"Trunks!" Goten blushed violently. "Of course not!"

This time, it was Trunks' turn to laugh.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The chamber was barely lit, but the coldness from outside couldn't come in, so the darkness was only on the surface. Her pale hair was pulled into a braid, her back was arched. It seemed as if she was drowning in one thought after the other. Her face troubled, her eyes unlit, she sat quietly for a long time, a small, stuffed dragon by her side. Neither of them moved, until the stuffed dragon spoke to her.

"Listen, listen, love," it said. "Unless you decide right about two seconds ago, there ain't much of a choice left. Ah, two seconds down, four thousand more to go. I doubt you'd want to know where this would lead but I'm tellin' anyway, love."

The girl didn't respond to his words, only shifted in her chair a bit, lighting a candle at the edge of the table she was seated at.

"There won't be no turnin' back, love. There won't be any chance to redeem, yadda yadda…"

She stood from her chair angrily. "I already know! There's no need to tell me over and over and over again things You told me a thousand times already!" she screamed at the stuffed doll.

"Who's keeping count, love? I told you eight hundred and eighty six times. Ooh! Ooh! I know! I know!"

Aera rolled her eyes, leaning her hands upon the back of the chair. "Oh, of course You know, You're Murass, You Know All."

"No wait. I really know! I have an idea, love!" it said to her.

"I don't even want to hear it," she snorted.

"Hey! That's not fair! Alright, fine. I won't tell you, then."

"Fine," Aera said, trying to sound as if she meant it.

"Fine!" the dragon snapped.

"Fine!"

The dragon giggled, then started laughing. Aera sighed, and threw up her hands in defeat. "Alright! Alright! Tell me already."

"I knew you'd come around, love."

"Hold your horses, I haven't agreed to anything yet. I agreed to listen, that's all," Aera protested.

"Ah, so you admit you did agree to something, love---" the stuffed animal said, whinnying like a complete moron.

"I give up."

Again, the dragon giggled. "Listen, listen, love. The only way to…"

Aera decided it really was time for her to listen to what he had to say. In all honesty she already knew he was right, she already knew she would have to listen. She simply wanted to stall, because it was the only thing she could do. And she knew, she knew Murass already knew.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"So Goten," Trunks said. "What happened to your face?"

Goten touched his nose. He knew it had been dealt a good blow, but was only slightly red. He realized any normal man would've suffered a minor concussion, a chipped nose and a black eye but when the door had hit Goten in the face, the door had shattered, instead of Goten's face.

"Just daily routine," the Son replied. "The door didn't survive in case you're wondering."

Trunks laughed. "Ah, instead of battling crooks and criminals you're battling exits."

"Shut up, Trunks. I really don't want to talk about it." And that much was true. He had been forced to be in a gun fight dressed up as a pizza, and after that he was forced to chase two villains on the run dressed up as a pizza. It wasn't as funny as it might sound, thinking back to earlier that day. At least they hadn't been forced to return to the station empty-handed. He grinned.

"Hey, let me in on the fun. What happened?" his friend said.

"I'm not allowed to discuss inside information with third parties," Goten said dismissively.

"Oh, so I'm a third party now? What happened to 'friends forever', eh Goten?"

Goten laughed, putting an arm round his friend. "Come on, let's grab something to eat. I'm really starved."

Trunks could only agree.

When they entered the nearest Mac Domhnaill's, it looked like people where glued to the television. Without looking at what they were doing, people were taking bites from burgers, taking sips from milkshakes and root beers. A chase was being broadcasted in the news. Trunks and Goten followed the hypnotised stares of people towards the nearest television screen. When the shape of a man dressed up as a pizza reached Goten's brain, he took a few steps backwards, intending to leave, his best friend however, stopped him by grabbing him by his arm. The both of them realized who this man in the Phat Pizza Pimps delivery suit was. When the broadcast was over, Trunks applauded, drawing the attention of everyone inside. At that, the lavender haired man pointed towards his best friend, who, still in his daily cop uniform, could only stare wide-eyed. The last zoom of the broadcast had made sure there wouldn't be any doubt who the pizza delivery boy saving the day was. And instead of being the laughing stock, Goten was welcomed with applause, cheering, and as many free Mac Domhnaill's meals as he could eat.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"What a loser," Ziyuu snorted as she pulled away her eyes from the TV screen. Her mouth felt dry, and almost as if she'd been stung by a bee. She had a hard time discerning what was really going on and she held her head, hoping the spinning would stop. She usually wouldn't call anyone a loser. She would never go beyond calling someone mean or silly. But when drunk, it was different.

She turned towards the men sitting next to her, staring down her cleavage. She didn't even notice.  
"Which one of you boys," she said as if her tongue had gone liquid. "Would like to buy me another drink?"

The men's enthusiasm was something to be ashamed of. Ziyuu however, found all the free drinks rather welcoming, and smiled happily, gobbling down drink after drink, spilling half over her dress.

"So blue," one of the men said to her. "You dance?"

Ziyuu stared at him, seeing him more than double, and laughed at the thought of it. "Who's asking? You triplets?" All men laughed, as did the bartender.

"Well, you dance, blue?" another one asked.

"I dance? You ask whether I dance?" Ziyuu prattled. "Course I dance! Music, yay!" She stood, almost toppling over on her high heels. She laughed when one of the men caught her, squeezing her breasts in the process. "Thank you, guess I fell over." She laughed.

The man never saw the fist coming as it hit him below the jaw. He was sent flying over the counter, landing hard against the rack of bottles and beverages.

The culprit glared at all other men, as he took Ziyuu in his arms, his ice-blue eyes revealing a great deal of anger.

"Hey! Don't keep her all to yourself!" one of the drunks said to him.

Juunana-gou didn't give him, nor anyone else, any chance to protest further as he sent the unfortunate man flying out of the bar.

"Which one of you wants to be next?" he blazed.

The bartender fired his gun on the android but Juunana-gou almost ignored him, twisting the gun's barrel.

This time, none of the men protested or so much as opened their mouths. In a firm stride, Juunana-gou left the bar, setting Ziyuu – who was only half conscious – in the seat of his convertible aircar. The car had been a gift of Ziyuu's two years ago, and he hardly drove it, only on special occasions. Today was special, though not in the way Juunana-gou would've expected. He hadn't even thought of ever doing a thing like this, mingling with humans ever again, but today had been special. Today he had done so to get his girl back.

She stared at him drowsily as he got in the car.

"Juu-kun…" she stammered. "Are we going home?"

"Yeah, babe. We're going home."

Happily, the girl closed her eyes and slept. Home. We're going home.

It was the first time Juunana-gou had ever referred to the little cabin in the woods as home. It wouldn't be the last, he knew. He started the engine, took off his jacket, and wrapped it over Ziyuu to keep her warm. Switching on the car lights, he drove off into the distance.

He had never realized that puny little human would mean that damn much to him. But he definitely realized now, as did those drunks in that backwater bar, and none of them was prone to forget anytime soon, and if they would, Juunana-gou was sure to remind them. No one, absolutely no one could come in between him and Ziyuu. No one, except maybe himself.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"All right, You win."

Murass cheered at those words.

"But how am I ever gonna get there on time?" Aera continued.

"I'm Murass, love…" said her stuffed dragon. "You'll get there, don't worry."

Murass was right. Murass knew All. Murass was the Lord of All, even time. Aera could've known Murass had an answer to everything.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Goten and Trunks enjoyed supersize meal after supersize meal, eating so much as half their bodyweight worth of French fries, burgers and meat pies.

Trunks burped, patting his stomach. His best friend was gobbling down another meat pie, slamming his chest as not to choke.

"How about you and Max?" Trunks said, making Goten choke. "You can't tell me nothing's going on between the two of you." Slowly, he stood, walking over to the Son. He wielded a fist against Goten's back. Although grateful he didn't choke, Goten glared at his friend.

"I already told you, nothing's going on between me and Maxine," he complained.

"I don't believe you."

"Then don't," the Son snorted.

Trunks grinned. "Oh come on, Goten. Might as well be honest. You're my best friend. You can tell me anything." He paused, hoping for a response from his friend. Goten only stared, his face blank. "I know you like her."

Goten blushed. "So what if I do?"

"So what if you do? So what if you do!" Trunks exclaimed, only lowering his voice when people stared at him. He blushed violently, grabbing another burger to distract himself. "Why not tell her?"

"That's not very professional, is it, Trunks? I've only had this job for a couple months. I don't want to ruin everything between me and Max. Not now things are going this great."

"What?" Trunks wondered. "Is she married?"

Goten shrugged. "I dunno."

"Then what are you waiting for? You don't come across a woman like Max every day!"

"I know, I know." Goten ushered Trunks to keep his voice down. He wasn't really in the mood to discuss his relationship with Maxine in a fastfood restaurant, of all places.

"But… I wouldn't know how to tell her."

Trunks laughed, wiping his hands on a napkin, chewing down the last of his burger. "You could start by asking her out for coffee after work. If she'd come with you it'd be the best indication of her liking you. And it'd be a different surroundings than work. I mean, even if I were gay, there'd be no way in Hell I'd fall for you if you were dressed up as a pizza all day." He snickered. Goten however, only chuckled sarcastically, pushing a meat pie in his friends face. Trunks muffled a protest. Goten pretended not to hear it.

"Serves you right, asshole."

Trunks wiped his face, then grabbed for a burger, stuffing it in Goten's ear. "Back at ya!"

He laughed.

Goten stood, and tossed a handful of French fries at Trunks. Trunks dove away, and the fries flew across the restaurant, hitting a woman at the side of her face. It was definitely the start of something.

"Food fight!" a man screamed. Goten lost track of why he was throwing around food, as did Trunks and neither of them could remember having had this much fun since high school. Luckily, no one so much as noticed Goten's police cap or he would really have been in trouble. Of course, both Goten and Trunks were banned from the restaurant since that day but it didn't deny the fact it was a day well spent for the two of them.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She blinked several times when she got there, not only because the light source at the centre of the laboratory was too bright to bear looking at, but also because she knew this place, even if she had never been there. It was almost as if she'd seen this place in her dreams, as if she'd known she would be here even before she was.

The light that had been building up at the centre of the lab was suddenly absorbed, and replaced with only darkness. She caught the hint of a shadow moving however could not discern what was really going on. Although she couldn't really see, she still felt the presence of a great evil, in the ever weakening company of the killer girl she had met not too long ago.

She realized this must be the Hakaisha's doing, none other. She knew she would have to move fast.

"Destroyer," she said to the shadow. "You haven't the right to claim her as your own. I will not allow it." She tried to move in quickly, but felt somehow pushed away.

The shadow shifted in response to her words, but lingered where it had been. "Speak not of things you know nothing of," it said to her with its deep, enthralling voice. "Interfere not in things that cannot be altered, even if you wish it."

"I forbid you to take her," she replied. "I forbid it!"

It shifted again, only quicker, causing for the entire room to shake to its core. Aera only staggered once, then regained her balance. She moved closer to the shadow.

"I forbid it!" she cried.

The shadow moved away from where it had been, drifting inauspiciously to where Aera was. Only now did Aera actually see Yamuna Tacra laying tied to an operating table, and Darken laying atop her, both unmoving. What in the Name of Murass was going on?

"Love, this ain't happening in My Name, that's for sure," Murass said in her head.

The shadow shifted violently at Murass' presence, however still moved to where Aera was.

"Let her go," the pale haired girl said calmly to the shadow. "She does not belong to you."

"Who are you to bid your will to Chaos!" the shadow hissed.

At that, Aera raised one open hand towards the shadow. The shadow remained where it was, perhaps out of curiosity, perhaps because it just didn't care to move.

The girl closed her eyes, finding inside of her the strength to oppose the chaos that breathed from this dark shadow. She knew its core was quiet, and only the surface was violently moving, almost akin the eye of a storm but she also knew its core was beyond anything she could even dream of sending off let alone vanquish.

"I forbid you to take what is not yours!" she screamed, and the entire room filled with a gallant light, chasing darkness away in dreary corners. Darkness knew not what came over itself the moment the light hit it, and it did not understand how a thing as insignificant as a Healer could ever summon a light this bright. But aside all those thoughts, the first thought that hit it was to crawl away, and to crawl away quickly. The light was just too much.

When Aera opened her eyes, the sun was breaking through the blinds at the far end of the laboratory. It was past midday. The room was covered in ice and frost, and the sunlight glistened in crystals across the vast corners of the laboratory, which walls were barely left standing. The roof had been blown off by the sheer force of Aera's attack. She crawled back on her feet, and staggered to the operating table.

Yamuna Tacra lay hidden under the heavy, lifeless body of an old man. Aera knew that old man was Darken. Aera didn't care. She pushed the man's corpse off of the table, and looked at the girl that had been underneath him. Her eyes were closed, her body was covered in wounds that hadn't had time to mend, her chest was ripped open, and blood dripped slowly from the tips of her fingers, onto the frozen floor.

"You'll be all right," Aera said to her, caressing the girl's cheek with a caring hand. Was this tranquil face the face of a killer? Or was this killer more like her than she had been willing to admit? Did it matter? She knew why she was here. She knew why she cared.

"You'll be all right," she repeated. "You know what? I just had an epiphany. I'll make sure to tell you all about it, Yamuna Tacra. I'll tell you all about it soon."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

_From now until forever  
__Stay with me my friend  
__Stay with me till the end_

---JoSav 2001, "What Friends Are For"---

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: What? Is Darken actually dead? Who knows? I do? Yeah, of course I do. But I'm not telling what happened. It'll all be explained and/or revealed later. Also, to avoid confusion: yes, Ziyuu has a drinking problem. It's all part of her dealing with issues. But you'll understand where it really comes from later. I wouldn't want to spoil you. On a side note, I want to make clear that this takes place BEFORE GT. Just to make sure.

This is the end of Book Three. Book Four is in writing as we speak.

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	28. Tale 25 Come Away With Me

"_Blessed are those who love. Cursed are they who hate. But may the Gods take pity on the one who both loves as well as hates."_

---Gundash. Profile of a Great King. Chapter 7: 'Lessons in Life'---

_"Love and Hate come through the same door. However, only one fits through at a time."_

---Proverb taught to children on Chikura-sei---

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**BOOK IV**  
**"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Twenty Five---Come Away With Me---**  
Rating: T**

_Smitten by unrivalled vexation  
Caught in insatiable arms  
I am swept away in a roused dance  
I close my eyes  
And let the shadows take me over  
Drifting within inauspicious, bleeding clouds  
I'm wrapped up in ebon_

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"Let's head for my place," said Trunks. "We'll order some take out. And get ourselves cleaned up a bit. I'll let you borrow some of my clothes."

"Sure," Goten replied.

The both of them took off into the sky and it didn't take very long before the Capsule Corp. Mansion was in sight. They entered through the backdoor, walking straight into the kitchen, where they found Bulma making a cup of coffee.

"You're home early," Trunks said to his mother.

The woman looked up from the counter and smiled. "It was a calm day. I let Sanshou and Boku take over for the remainder of the day. It's not like anything important was due." She sat down at the kitchen table, offering a cup of coffee to both Trunks and Goten, who both refused. Trunks was a bit surprised that she let Boku and Sanshou take over. It wasn't the normal thing to do in large corporations, especially not this family owned one that was the biggest in the world. Any Zaibatsu structured corporation would not let anyone out of the family do the managing, not for longterms but neither for just an afternoon. It was just not done. Trunks shrugged, figuring his mother was modern and therefore moved away from age old business structures.

"Had fun on your day off, hon?" Bulma asked her son, gesturing at his dirty clothes. Trunks blushed. His mother laughed, then turned to Goten. "And you, like your new job?"

Goten nodded. "You bet," he replied.

"Good for you!" Bulma said happily. Trunks stared, then interrupted his mother.

"Mom, you knew?" he asked.

"Knew what?"

"Goten's job," Trunks spoke.

"Oh, that. Yes, didn't you?" his mother wondered.

"No. Is there no one in this house who'll bother telling me anything!" the lavender haired man complained. Goten made a face, feeling somewhat embarrassed. Bulma winked at him, which made him laugh.

"It's not funny, Goten." Trunks protested irritably.

"Let's hit the showers," the Son told his friend, putting an arm round him.

Trunks snickered, following his friend's lead, forgetting his irritation. "That sounded unbelievably gay," he said.

"I know. Who said I didn't have a sense of humour?" Goten responded.

"I did."

"Well, I meant to say who with a sense of humour himself ever said I didn't have a sense of humour," Son Goten laughed at his own words.

"Hey!" They both laughed.

Bulma watched them as they exited the kitchen and moved further down the hall. Confused, she took a sip from her coffee. She'd never get the two of them. Their jokes went beyond reason, that much was certain. Still, the woman was pleased to find Trunks' mood had picked up. She knew having given him a day off was just what the boy needed. Well, Goten's company was more like it; without it, Trunks' mood would likely have still been on the floor. She smiled, and took her cup of coffee, deciding to head for the living room and watch some television before Vejiita would come barging in, demanding food. She was actually surprised to not hear Trunks and Goten complain for food, but then, the smell of French fries and burgers lingered long after they had left, so she was sure they'd hold out without food for at least another hour. Just enough time for her to enjoy her coffee.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Yamuna Tacra felt a surge of warmth embrace her. She didn't know where it was coming from, nor why it was taking away the pain in her chest so easily. She stirred awake, opening her eyes to meet with Aera's pale eyes. The Healer smiled in response to her waking.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Waking from the dead," Yamuna Tacra admitted. "Or at least fucking close."

"That's not surprising after what happened."

"What happened?" the Saiyajin wondered, trying to sit up. Aera ushered her not to move.

"It is best you lay still for just a little while longer. You…" She hesitated, unsure what to say. "You almost died."

Yamuna Tacra frowned but complied to the girl's wishes. "Why didn't I?" She didn't remember much, only the unbearable pain, the unbearable fear washing over her, taking over her very being, taking over everything.

"I'm not sure I can explain. What do you remember?" Aera asked, moving her hands to Yamuna's stomach, making the warrior twitch with the tingling, yet soothing feeling.

She pressed her lips together, knitting her eyebrows almost together in thought. "I remember darkness. I remember feeling cold, feeling as if I could no longer control my mind, or my body. I felt…" She was ashamed to admit it but did anyway. What did it matter? Would it even matter if she kept it to herself? This Healer was likely able to sense things anyway. "I felt helpless."

"The Hakaisha has awoken from its slumber," Aera said, not bothering to respond to the warrior's words, knowing it wouldn't make a difference. "The Thief tried to make off with you last night."

"Make off?" Finally, Yamuna Tacra sat up, ignoring Aera's protests. The Saiyajin's heart jumped twice, and she gasped. She shook her head, finding her strength back, ignoring the lasting pain. "What do you mean?"

"In the Real, the Hakaisha is known for its reputation as the Thief of Souls. It locks them up, uses them, abuses them. Whenever he finds a suitable host, he prepares to board them."

"What?" Yamuna interrupted, almost chuckling in confusion.

"The Destroyer, Darken, tried to take you over. He tried to take you over completely."

Thinking back to what had happened the other day, things fell into place for the Saiyajin. The moment that man had put his hand against her chest, and the blood inside of her began to boil with a feeling she had never felt, she felt as if pulled to something unfamiliar, to a light, an illusion. And an illusion it had been. For the light never existed, it was complete darkness. What she saw had shaken her beyond her core, frightened her, shown her how powerless she really was against that man. The entity that had tried creeping into her mind was unfamiliar to her. The entity that had tried taking her over had not been Darken, it had been someone – something – else. What it really wanted was unclear, but what it wanted of her in particular had been clear, and frighteningly close. It wanted her, all of her. And it had been close. It had been so damned close to succeeding. There was one thing she didn't understand however. She didn't understand why it had not succeeded, she didn't understand why she was still alive.

"So tell me, why didn't I die?"

Aera brushed a hand through the girl's hair, her face filled with some sort of compassion, an emotion that almost made Yamuna Tacra's stomach turn. However, she didn't resist the gesture, as it filled her with stillness at the same time.

"You didn't die because it did not want you to," Aera said.

"What? That doesn't make any sense."

"Yes it does. It was never the Hakaisha's nor Darken's intention to kill you. All the Destroyer wanted was to have you, as its host."

"Ick. That sounds disgusting," Yamuna Tacra commented, making a sickened face. "But he failed, right?"

"Oh, definitely. If he hadn't you wouldn't be here right now. You'd either be dead or besmirched."

"Be-what?" Yamuna frowned, not understanding Aera's choice of words.

"Besmirched," Aera filled in. "Taken over, tainted, corrupted, whichever you like. In any case, you would've lost yourself in the endless pool of the Destroyer's entity, had your soul even survived in the first place."

Yamuna Tacra bit her lip, shifting off of the bed she was put on. Only now did she notice she was someplace she had never been before. It almost looked like the inside of a mountain, covered in crystals, stalactites and formations. Where was she? No, she should worry about something else first. She should sort her priorities. She shouldn't think of trivial things.

"What about Darken?" she asked.

"His soul survived surprisingly. His soul survived the first time the Hakaisha possessed him, and he survived when the Hakaisha needed to go back."

"Go back?" Yamuna Tacra inquired, looking for an answer.

"Will you please stop interrupting me?" Aera complained, sighing.

The Saiyajin girl frowned, looking pained. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She really wasn't used to apologizing and it sounded weird hearing those words echo in her head. She bit the inside of her cheeks.

"Well now," Aera continued. "The Hakaisha cannot do without a physical body for a long time. He was very close to taking you but as the process was interfered, he had to resort to drastic measures, which was to take over the old, ailing body of Darken again. It's a miracle Darken's soul still exists. But it's disintegrating, and disintegrating fast. If we don't leave soon, the Destroyer will take over completely and lay low everything. It still wants you. And nothing is going to stop it. So we really don't have a choice. We must leave, as soon as possible."

Again, Yamuna Tacra's face was filled with questions. Confused, she looked at the Healer standing beside her, and her eyes slid across the room, to the bed, to the basket in which the tiny stuffed dragon lay, and back to the girl again.

_We must leave, as soon as possible_, she heard the words repeated in her mind a dozen times but she just didn't understand.

"We?" she stammered eventually.

"I'm coming with you, Yamuna Tacra," Aera replied. "You need me."

Yamuna snickered. "Oh do I?" she said arrogantly.

"You do."

For the first time in ages, Murass did not respond to Aera's valiant words. Aera knew why. Murass was busy, very busy. And she knew with what. But she wasn't going to tell Yamuna Tacra. She knew it'd have to wait. Everything had to wait until they were able to leave. The world wasn't safe as long as they stayed. The world wasn't safe as long as Yamuna Tacra stayed. But Aera wasn't going to leave her side, for even if the killer wouldn't admit it, she needed her. They needed each other, although neither of them really got why.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Goten almost jumped when he got out of the shower, wearing only one of Trunks' baggy sweatpants, and a towel around his neck, brushing the back of his head dry. Bura stared at him, looking up, smiling widely.

"Bura-chan," Goten started to say, thinking what he should say to his best friend's little sister. She looked absolutely adorable in her blue dress, which had tiny little bunnies on it. "You know you shouldn't sneak up on people," the Son said eventually.

Bura beamed at him. "I wasn't sneaking," she replied innocently.

Goten couldn't help but smile. Bura was really adorable, and very different from her belligerent little niece, Panny. Goten nodded, kneeling to get closer to her, and look her straight in the face, so she wouldn't hurt her neck looking up. He never realized how tall he was unless when in the Briefs house. He was taller than Trunks, a lot taller than Vejiita, and well, Bura was so very cute still. But he knew Bura had inherited her mother's genes. If it wasn't for the age difference, they could've been sisters.

"So, what were you doing if you weren't sneaking?" he asked.

"I was waiting for you, Goten-san," she said, much to the Son's surprise.

"Oh really?" Goten wondered, playing along with whichever game the girl was playing.

"Yup."

"I see," the Son said. "Before I'm going to ask you why you were waiting for me… where's your brother?"

"Trunks isn't here," Bura answered.

"I can see that. But maybe you can tell me where he is?"

"He's with Tou-chan. He and papa are kicking butt." Bura smiled expectantly as she had answered Goten's question, hoping to get down to business, or at least something in the likes. She pulled on her dress, and the bunnies almost seemed to move.

Goten sighed. He had feared something like that. Vejiita always tended to do that whenever they were together. Likely, he'd be sitting in front of the TV all night without catching even a glimpse of Trunks. It sucked. "Well, I guess it's just you and me now, Bura-chan."

"_Yoshi_!" Bura exclaimed. "Let's have some tea in my room."

And so, Goten spent the remainder of the afternoon – until dinner – in Bura's room, accompanied by her stuffed dinosaur, her teddy bear and her dolls, having imaginary tea. But Goten didn't really mind. Bura was really a sweet kid, and he liked how excited she was over just about anything.

"Would you like some more tea, Goten-san?" she asked.

Goten smiled, finding Trunks' sister not snotty or bratty at all, despite the things Trunks had always told him. She was just too cute to find annoying. "Yes, please," he replied, holding out the flowery cup, made out of cheap, hard plastic. He watched Bura carefully as she poured in some more imaginary tea.

"You hold tea parties often, Bura-chan?" the Son asked.

Bura smiled happily, finding it an absolute delight Goten was so involved with her party.

"Yes, yes," she cheered. "Usually papa joins me. He loves having tea."

Had Goten not been drinking imaginary tea, he definitely would've choked. "Papa? You mean, Vejiita has tea with you?"

"All the time," Bura answered as if it was a completely normal thing to say. "He talks to Taisan a lot. And he loves Rikku's hair, he says so. And…" She trailed off. Goten made a face.

"Taisan? Who's your little brother?" he wondered, thinking of the name.

"My teddy bear, of course. I named him Taisan. I take care of him. I'm his big sister."

"Ah," Goten responded. He really didn't want to know any more than this. It was disturbing enough to even try to imagine Vejiita of all people having tea with Bura and her cuddly toys. Thinking of Vejiita, he hoped Trunks would be all right.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"Leave eh?" Yamuna Tacra pondered, looking at her chest, which looked like it'd been stitched together, however ages ago. She didn't remember having that scar before.

She gestured Aera, and wondered if she had anything to do with it.

"You were hurt pretty bad. You'll be fine. It's just gonna be sore for a little while," the pale haired girl answered. "But I'll tell you everything after we've left. We haven't the time for this."

"When you say leaving, where to?" Yamuna Tacra asked, surprised by her own calm, the lack of irritation, the lack in any sense of anger at all.

"Space. Away from this planet. It's in danger if we stay. It'll be destroyed if we stay."

"All right, fair enough. Suppose I choose to believe you. We'd still need a ship." Yamuna folded her arms, looking at Aera questioningly. She doubted whether that Healer had thought of how to leave, she doubted that Healer would even pull through with it.

"It's all been taken care of," the girl replied, much to Yamuna's surprise.

"Oh, really?"

"Really," said Aera. "I presume it'll be only a matter of minutes before we'll get our cue."

Irritated by Aera's talk in riddles, Yamuna Tacra began losing her patience. "What does that mean! Quit it with your riddles!"

At that, a man entered the secluded chamber, a man whose face Yamuna Tacra recognized almost instantly.

"Fringe," she heard herself say. "How did…?"

"That's not important," the man interrupted. He turned his attention over to Aera. "You did a good job, that's for sure, whether it's a good thing you healed her or not. She definitely wasn't standing the last time I saw her…"

Yamuna Tacra did not hide her impatience and tedium. She kept her arms folded.

"Everything's ready. I'm still not sure where exactly you're going but I trust your good judgment. I do hope it won't be the last we'll see of you," Fringe continued.

"Don't worry. We'll be fine. Where's Winter?" Aera hugged the man, smiling.

"She's still with the shuttle."

"I see. You're coming with us?" Aera asked.

"Yes. I doubt Winter would know the way back. She loses her way even in this part of the catacombs," Fringe commented.

"Well, you have a point there."

Yamuna Tacra snorted. "Mind letting me in on what this little conversation is all about?" she sniped.

"I'm sorry. I should've explained," Aera said, turning to the warrior woman. "I gather that you remember Fringe. He and Winter, my godmother, fixed up the old spaceship your father used, to liberate the Human hostages, years ago. We kept it hidden for a long time, knowing one day it would come in handy."

"Come in handy, you call it," Yamuna commented. "That must be an understatement." She sighed. She didn't want to admit she agreed with this Healer girl. But truth be told, she knew the only way to defeat Darken – the Hakaisha – was to run and grow stronger. The only way to defeat him was to go someplace else, someplace where she could grow stronger without having to fear being discovered, without having to fear he'd try to take her over again. She knew if he'd find her, she'd die. She knew she wasn't strong enough to oppose him, yet. She looked at Fringe, then at Aera.

"Alright. Let's go."

She didn't want to ask stupid questions, questions that could be answered some other time. She need not ask why these people trusted her. She need not ask why they were civil to her. She as well as they knew what she had done to them in the past, she as well as they knew what she had done to their family and friends. She knew more pressing matters were at hand. She understood, even if she didn't really get it.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The old-fashioned alarm clock shrieked loudly, and she slammed it quiet. She yawned, stretching, still under her covers. Today, she was going to look for her grandpa. And she'd take him home, damn it! She smiled, sitting up. As she jumped out of the bed, she almost tripped over the messy pile of clothes by her bedside and muttered.

"Mom should really do some laundry," she complained, completely self-absorbed. She looked in the mirror on her desk, brushing her black hair with a plastic comb. She walked to her closet, pulling out some baggy clothes and putting them on, tossing her pyjamas to the side thoughtlessly. She pulled an orange bandana out of one of her drawers and wrapped it over her head, admiring herself in the mirror.

"Pan-chan," she said to herself arrogantly, "You look more gorgeous every day."

She sneaked downstairs and entered the kitchen, pleased to notice her mother nor her father had gotten up yet. She grabbed her backpack and stuffed it with what was left in the fruit bowl on the table, and she took half of the rice flans that were left from yesterday's dish. It should soothe her hunger for at least two hours, she thought to herself as she stormed out of the house and took to the sky.

"Grandpa Goku, here I come!" she yelled at the wind and the rising sun.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Aera scrutinized Yamuna Tacra as the latter admired the ship that lay hidden under a bushel of leaves, twigs and grass. She recognized the craft as one of the Overlord's precious machines, of which currently only two – correct that: three – were left. She had flown in one of them, once. It wasn't enough to make her an expert, or an experienced aviator for that matter but she figured it would have to do.

"It won't do," Aera said, waking the Touch of Death from her thoughts. "You're not going alone. I'll pilot this thing. At least I know how to fly it without crashing."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yamuna Tacra sneered, making both Fringe and Winter back off a little. "If you have a death wish, fine, welcome aboard. Don't say I didn't warn you."

"No problem," Aera replied.

Winter stared at Aera, then at the monster she was talking to. The Touch of Death almost seemed like she was just some girl. She didn't look as frightening as she would've thought. She looked… almost docile.

"Aera-chan," the elder woman said. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"I'll be okay, Winter-san, I had a great flying instructor." She winked, making Winter blush. "Don't worry about me. Worrying won't get you anywhere. Just hope. Hope for the best." Aera hugged her mentor tightly. "I'll never forget you. And all you have to do is think of me. I love you."

Winter tried hard not to let her tears get the best of her. She pressed her lips tightly against one another, and let the girl go when Fringe urged her to.

"It's time," the man said. "Be strong, Aera. Be strong for the both of you. We won't forget."

"Thanks Fringe-san. We'll stay in touch, I'm sure."

Yamuna Tacra ignored the goodbyes. Frankly, the thought alone made her quite sick, and somewhat fractious as well. No one would come say goodbye to her, in fact, she figured most people would definitely love for her to go away and never come back. She snorted, entering the spaceship without looking back.

"Healer!" she called out after she'd installed herself in the driver's seat. "Get on with the mushy stuff if you still want to come along!"

Aera smiled, letting go of both Winter and Fringe. "That's my cue," she said.

Winter handed the girl her stuffed dragon, trying not to cry. "I'm sure the Highest will watch out for you."

"I'm sure He will," Aera replied, taking the doll in her arms.

Yamuna Tacra started the engine, not waiting for the Healer girl a minute longer. Aera shook her head, smiling, and jumped inside the ship, waving at her two best friends until the hood shut itself automatically, and the craft slowly vanished into the distance.

Only now did Winter burst out crying, burying her face in Fringe's chest, who held her, looking at the sky until long after the ship had disappeared.

"This is it," he said to Winter ultimately. "It's finally begun."

Winter looked at the man with a tear stricken face. "What has?" she asked.

"The last stage of the war. Everything depends on those two. Everything depends on Aera."

Winter put her cheek against Fringe's chest. Fringe embraced her. "She's made her decision," he said. "And I admire her courage."

The woman smiled ruefully, thinking back the years, thinking back to a time she could never have imagined feeling this free in an epoch of such desolation and despair. She couldn't help but feel happy, she could help but agree with Fringe. She admired Aera's courage.

"So do I," Winter murmured, "so do I."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: First off, I mentioned a term called Zaibatsu. I'm sure most of you are unfamiliar with Japanese business structure. Perhaps you have heard of Zaibatsu but are just not sure what it is. Zaibatsu is a large concern, usually a family business that is structured in the shape of a triangle with the owning family on top making all the decisions. All managers are family members, whether they have the talent to manage or not. It's all based on Confucianism, which is (or has been) of great influence in the business structure in Japan. I figured Capsule Corporation grew into a Zaibatsu also, given the Briefs family being in charge like that. Since this isn't placed in our time I ignored the Asia Crisis of the late nineties. : )

Wasn't the tea party cute?

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	29. Tale 26 Time for Change

**BOOK IV  
"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Twenty Six---Time for Change--- **  
Rating: T**

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"Tell me," Yamuna Tacra said, as she switched on the auto-pilot on the control panel of the ship and turned to look at the girl sitting beside her. "Why are you and your stuffed doll coming with me?" She folded her arms, turning her seat slightly.

"I told you already. You need me."

Yamuna Tacra wetted her lower lip, and watched the girl beside her braid her long, pale hair. She wondered what she was thinking but she needed to ask other questions first. She sighed, frustrated.

"Explain to me this, Healer…" She tilted her head, and continued to watch the girl carefully. As if nothing was the matter, the Healer was braiding blue ribbons in her hair. "Why would I possibly need your help?"

"Only light can defeat darkness," Aera said, much to Yamuna Tacra's annoy.

"I'm not waiting for your foolish religious explanations. Why do I need your help!" Irritated, she slammed a balled fist against the control panel, and the spaceship groaned in protest. Yamuna Tacra knew losing her cool in outer space wouldn't be a very good idea so she decided to retain her anger and wait for a reasonable answer.

Aera flipped her braid back, focusing on the warrior beside her fully. "The Hakaisha thrives on darkness. And for long, you thought you thrived on just the same. I've come with you to show you life isn't all about death and destruction."

Yamuna Tacra snorted. "Right, of course, how could I have been so stupid," she sneered sarcastically. "I should've known life is all about love and understanding, and baby blue ribbons."

Insulted, Aera stood from her chair, and walked away.

"I'll talk to you once you've come to your senses again. There's no reasoning with you, right now," she said.

Miffed, Yamuna Tacra stood also, grabbing the girl by her wrist before she could walk away any further. "Hold it right there, Healer," the Touch of Death said scornfully. "I'm not done with you."

Aera turned, narrowing her pale eyes. "Well, I am. Let go of me."

"Heh. You must be joking. I don't take any order, from no one," the Saiyajin spoke.

"You will now." Aera tried to pull herself loose, but Yamuna Tacra just pulled the girl closer, and pushed her in the chair she had been sitting in.

"You listen to me—" Yamuna started to say.

"No, _you_ listen to _me_!" Aera screamed, standing from her chair.

Immediately, Yamuna Tacra pushed the girl back, not bothering to withhold her anger.

"I'm done listening to you!" she cut her off. "You have no idea what it's like to stand in the dark for so long. You have no idea what it's like to stand in the shadow of a monster all your life, only to find out you're no better than him." The Saiyajin's voice revealed a hint of distress that wasn't visible in her angered face. "You have no idea what it's like to know nothing _but_ death and destruction. Your mother and your godmother alike, did a good job at keeping such atrocities from you." Slowly, the Saiyajin was calming down, although she didn't move from where she stood, making sure the Healer wouldn't be able to walk away a second time.

"I don't share your innocence. I don't have your hope. I was never given such luxury."

The sudden compassion in Aera's eyes angered her further though she didn't bother to show it to her. She simply leaned back against the control panel, giving the girl free way to leave.

"If you really don't wish to explain to me why you've come along, so be it."

"I'll tell you why, Yamuna Tacra. Just not yet."

She turned towards the control panel, switching on some buttons. "Please try to understand."

Yamuna shrugged her shoulders, and walked away. She knew Aera must have her reasons. She simply wasn't used to not being filled in. She was usually the first to know of any situation, often even before Darken knew but the slightest of what was going on. She didn't like the thought of not knowing, and she particularly didn't like the thought of Aera knowing something of Darken she herself hadn't figured out yet.

The automatic doors closed behind her and she decided to retreat to her dormitory to get some shuteye.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The green light of the computer screen reflected in her dark eyes. She looked as if the world around her didn't exist. She barely looked up when Juunana-gou entered the small cabin, and simply continued to work on her project, sipping from her martini occasionally.

Juunana-gou leaned back in his lazy chair by the fire place, putting up his feet. He watched her quietly.

Ziyuu continued to type down calculations at an astounding speed. Juunana-gou had never really understood any of her hobbies, let alone this one. Actually, this particular part of her research somehow angered him, as if they reminded him of Gero. He watched how she poured in another martini, and gulped it down almost immediately, only to pour in another drink. She brushed her hair out of her face, beads of sweat making her blue hair cling to her skull as if attached with super glue. When the bottle of martini was empty, Ziyuu finally bothered to look at the android. She smiled at him sweetly.

"Juu-kun," she said. "Would you do me a favour?"

"What's that?" he replied semi-casually, pretending to look at her just now.

"There's a bottle of sake on the kitchen counter. Mom brought it when she came by earlier. It's home grown. Mom makes the best sake in the entire district. Too bad I need to finish this project first, or she could've shared it with us."

"I don't drink sake," Juunana-gou said wryly. "Get to the point, Ziyuu."

Ziyuu frowned at him. He hadn't called her by her name in forever. In fact, Juunana only called her by her name when he was irritated.

"So you won't fetch that bottle for me, then, is that it?" she said.

"That's it," Seventeen replied briskly.

"Fine." Ziyuu closed her laptop and stood. "I'll get it myself."

Juunana-gou followed her moves. He could tell she'd already been drinking too much. Whatever project she was working on, and however important it was, her drinking wasn't improving her performances at all. He breathed in through his nostrils sharply when she got back, holding a bottle wrapped in paper in her hand. He closed his eyes. He should kick her out of his house for her disobedient behaviour, that much was certain.

He still watched her as she poured in some sake into a porcelain cup. She gobbled down the scented drink and coughed, almost choking. He smirked.

"This is what you get," he commented. "You shouldn't drink so much."

Flushed she looked at him, however, instead of shame her face revealed only anger. It was the booze doing this to her usually so civilized, sweet self.

"You're a fucking asshole, Seventeen!" she screamed at him. "How dare you tell me how to lead my life!"

Juunana-gou sat up calmly, putting his feet down. "You're in my house, woman."

Ziyuu's face almost exploded with rage, and she sneezed unexpectedly, which made her personality and looks switch to that of an even more explosive person. She had her now green eyes narrowed, and held the man opposite her at gunpoint.

"Talk to the gun, asshole," she bit at him.

Juunana-gou in turn laughed at her mockingly.

"Go play outside, little girl," he said.

The room lit up with the blaze of gunfire, overpowering even the girl's fervent battle cries.

Suddenly the lights died, except for the continued gunfire, which now seemed to originate from more than one gun. It seemed all hell had broken loose in that secluded forest cabin, when sounds of broken glass and flying objects filled the cool forest air.

Just as unexpectedly as the shooting had begun, it ended however. It ended in a complete and utter silence, until a sneeze was heard.

Ziyuu sat on her knees behind the now ruined couch, crying softly.

Juunana-gou had his back leaning against what was left of his chair, his gun still smoking.

"It's over, Ziyuu," he said quietly. "This is the last time I've shot my own house to pieces because you refuse to admit you've got a problem." Slowly, he raised himself up and walked to where the girl sat, standing beside her. "This still is my house, even if the land it's been built upon belongs to you."

She looked up at him, her face tear stricken. "Juu-kun," she started to say. "I'm so sorry. I understand if this means you never—"

He cut her off. "You don't mean that. I don't want a roomie who's either working or drinking, or doing both all the time. You're a lousy drunk, babe. And a lousy roomie—"

"If you want me to leave, I will. You know that, Juu-kun."

"Shut up," he said smartly. "I never mentioned anything about leaving. The only thing leaving is the booze. And I'll shoot you for real if you dare 'but' me." He touched her cheek, then walked away from her casually, putting his lazy chair back to where it had been before the shooting. He sat down as if nothing had happened.

"Better go clean up, babe. I hate having to come home to a big mess. And that includes you, blue. You look like shit."

Ziyuu laughed, knowing Juunana-gou longer than today. She hadn't expected ever finding anyone able to handle her explosive nature, let alone her drinking problem, or her tricky other self. She wiped her face, and started to tidy what was left of the house.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"Don't you ever run away like that again! You heard me, Son Pan!"

Pan sunk away in the living room couch as far as she could. Her father really sounded angry. She had never actually seen him like this.

"Well!" he yelled at her as he put his hands akimbo, staring at her crossly.

"Yes, papa."

"Good," Gohan said. His face turned softer again. "Don't scare us like that ever again, will you Panny?"

Although Pan wanted to tell her father not to call her Panny, she decided to leave it and nodded absentmindedly.

"Your mother will take care of how to punish you. I have a speech to work on and at least a dozen more research papers to assess." He winked at his wife, whispering. "Don't be too harsh on her. She misses her grandfather Goku as much as I do."

Videl nodded, though she wasn't too pleased to be left with punishing her daughter when Gohan was as much a parent as she was. She decided to sit down beside Pan, hoping her daughter would confide in her.

"Pan-chan," she said softly, "I know you have difficulty accepting the fact your grandfather Goku isn't home a lot—"

"You mean, he's never home," her young daughter filled her in. Honestly, Videl couldn't really argue with her.

"Yes, Pan-chan. But that doesn't deny the fact he loves you. Goku-san, he…" Videl had difficulty finding the right words. Gohan was so much better at this, and Goku was his father after all. She sighed, brushing a lock of hair out of Pan's childlike face. Pan looked so very young, she looked as young as any Saiyajin would. Unable to find the right words, Videl bit her lip until her daughter woke her up again.

"What about grandpa?" the girl wondered, folding her arms crossly.

"Goku loves you, he loves your grandmother, he loves your father and your uncle Goten. He loves us all, Pan-chan. Goku only has difficulty showing it. He loves you just as much as your grandpa Satan does. He's just not really good at spoiling you like grandpa Satan." Videl no longer wanted to be angry. She snuggled up with her daughter, smiling ruefully, hoping her child would accept the fact Goku wasn't coming home, for no one.

"You think," Pan-chan mused, "Grandpa Satan would let me train at his budo?"

"I think he would love that," Videl replied, putting her chin on Pan's head. "I really think he would."

"Cool," said Pan. "I'll go see him right away!" The girl jumped up and dashed out of the living room. Videl looked at her, smiling.

Pan-chan was just like Goku sometimes. She loved to fight even more so than Gohan or she herself did at that age, she loved to fight as much as Goku did. Although knowing this worried Videl, it didn't worry her as much as she thought it would.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Yamuna Tacra woke to the sound of a heavy voice. Her eyes flung open and she covered her ears, sitting up.

"Healer!" she screamed at Aera, unable to make out what the deep voice was saying.

Aera entered the dormitory calmly, wearing an apron. Apparently, the girl had been cooking breakfast, or at least tried to do just that. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"What the Hell's going on?" Yamuna Tacra sneered.

"I'm making breakfast," the girl replied.

Irritated, the other girl slipped out of her bed, glaring at the Healer. "Not what you're doing, what's with the voice." The voice crackled to a shattering laughter, making Yamuna Tacra flinch.

"Oh that," Aera said casually. "Murass-san is helping me out. You wouldn't believe what he can do with something as basic as some pods, seeds and a little mutton."

Yamuna Tacra tried not to get angry. "You're making breakfast, the Highest and you." She huffed, trying not to fall back to a pitiful laughter.

"We were waiting for you to get up. We got bored. That's all," Aera said innocently.

The Saiyajin girl decided not to pry the girl. She didn't even want an explanation.

"Well, I'm definitely up now."

"So I noticed," Aera spoke, taking off her apron and walking to the front of the spaceship, leaving the pancakes for what they were. "We'll eat later. Murass-san, go ahead."

"Thanks a bunch, love," Murass said in its thick voice. Yamuna Tacra almost lost her balance. She didn't get any of this.

"It is a little sooner than I would have expected you to leave your birth planet," the spirit started to say, and Yamuna Tacra looked about her to find out where the voice was coming from, only to come to the conclusion the voice was all around.

"But sometimes even I cannot control everything," it continued.

"Because your other halves are not ready to face such a challenge, to face uncanny destruction, destruction unlike anything they have ever seen, destruction beyond destruction, destruction for the sheer necessity of destroying, destruction—"

"We get the idea," Yamuna Tacra said, snorting.

"Right." Murass coughed, again making Yamuna clutch her head.

"The other half will need some time. And since the both of you need to work on that relationship of yours, I've devised an emergency plan. Let's just call it, a side trip."

"I see," said Aera.

"I don't." Yamuna folded her arms.

"But you will see," Murass spoke. "Eventually. Everything has a purpose. Everything's part of the bigger whole, everything's connected. Everything happens for a reason, even things beyond reason."

Yamuna Tacra narrowed her eyes. "Then answer me this, My Ass…" Murass couldn't help but laugh over the girl's disrespect, which made the Saiyajin twitch. "Why is that Healer coming with me!" she said persistently. "It's not like you need her to get to me."

"You will have your answer," it replied. "Eventually, you will find it yourself."

Yamuna Tacra gritted her teeth angrily, then sat down by the control panel, pretending she was done talking when in all reality she knew she had so much left to wonder.

"You will have to find the other half. Alas, I cannot allow you to know just yet where the other half resides…" Murass spoke, now addressing only Aera, however still speaking aloud, annoying Yamuna Tacra tremendously.

"But Murass-san, You have any idea how vast the universe is? It'll take forever to find them without Your Guidance!" Aera said.

"Of course. I am Murass. I know All, I see All."

Aera made a face.

And so, Murass left again, leaving the two girls to themselves.

The Healer sat down beside the Saiyajin, taking the steering wheel in her hands, then pressing some buttons, adjusting the navigation data.

"So," Yamuna Tacra started, her arms folded behind her head. "Now what?"

"Now we look around. Murass will lead us where He wants us to be. We might as well make the best of things."

"What a spray of shit," Yamuna Tacra complained, looking outside. "Any chance you'll finish that breakfast soon?"

Aera laughed.

"Seriously. I'm quite starved," the Saiyajin commented, glaring at her with one eye, pretending to doze off.

Aera couldn't even be bothered to be angered over the fact this killer didn't even realize the scarcity of food and nutrition plaguing their homeplanet for so many years. This killer simply hadn't grown up under the same dire circumstances, which sometimes made the Healer think this Yamuna Tacra was from another planet completely.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Maxine pulled over the car, turning the key in the ignition. Then she pulled on the brakes, looking at Goten. He looked positively good in his uniform, she couldn't help but think.

"You wanna grab some coffee before you go?" she asked.

"Can't say the office cafeteria really calls out to me," Goten said, trying not to sound too glibly.

"Oh I'm not talking about the office cafeteria," Maxine reacted. "I was hoping you'd join me at the bistro around the corner."

"Okay." Goten smirked. Bistro sounded like food. Food sounded good. And he couldn't deny the fact he'd like Maxine's company.

The woman looked at her watch. 5:20 AM it said. She bit her lip. It was likely too early to head for the bistro. Sometimes, she really hated having nightshifts.

"Goten, I'll tell you what," she started. "Meet me at the bistro in fifteen minutes. It'll open at 5:30 so you won't have to wait too long. I just really need to take a shower at the office."

"Okay," Goten said meekly, and exited the car, walking further down the street.

Maxine in turn jumped out of the car and rushed for her locker and the showers, hoping Goten would at least appreciate her attempt to look her best after a long night's work. Hopefully the bistro would open this early, hopefully Goten would appreciate the bistro's food and the coffee enough to not be bothered by the waiting too much. She had to admit she had really grown fond of Goten. And in all honesty, it had been so long since she'd felt this way about any man. Whether it was professional to have feelings for a colleague or not, Maxine didn't care. She rather liked Goten. And she had the feeling Goten had liked her for quite a while.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Goten didn't mind waiting, even though he was very hungry. The bistro looked rather closed, and it didn't look like it would open anytime soon. He folded his hands around his face, pressing his nose against the glass, hoping to catch a glimpse of activity inside. He walked to the door, trying to open it. A big sign with red letters on it indicated the bistro was very much closed as it were. The Son read the opening times, and looked at his watch. It figured, he thought absentmindedly that the one night he needed for this stupid bistro to be open, it was closed.

"It's closed, isn't it?"

He heard Maxine's voice coming from behind him, and he turned. Maxine looked absolutely stunning. She wore a silk skirt that was as bright red as her lips, and her Chinese top only complemented her delicate figure more. Her sneakers looked out of place but Goten decided not to say a word. Maxine followed his stare and blushed.

"I didn't have anything else with me," she apologized. "I'm usually not this impulsive."

Goten in turn smiled. "Max, you look great."

She allowed him to take her arm. "Let's grab our coffee someplace else," he said to her.

She smiled gratefully.

As they looked for a place that was open at this time of night, Goten started to confide in her almost naturally. He didn't know why, but he felt like he could really confide in Maxine.

"You never wondered why I became a cop, Max?" he asked. Silently, they walked further down the street, crossing one street after another.

"Not really," Max eventually replied. "You were cut out for this job, Goten. It's almost as if fighting crime is in your blood."

The Son looked at her. "You have no idea," he said to her.

"Oh?"

Goten turned away his face suddenly, not sure whether he should tell her or not. "You ever heard of the Great Saiyaman?"

"Who hasn't? He's the best crime fighter who ever lived. He and Videl Satan made a great team quite some time ago. I'm still not sure why the Great Saiyaman disappeared and Videl Satan married such a dorky man." She laughed. "Maybe his geeky behaviour reminded her of Great Saiyaman's quirkiness."

Son Goten frowned. "I'm not sure I get what you mean. But what I'm going to tell you needs to stay between us."

"You have my word, Goten," she said.

"That dorky man is the Great Saiyaman, and my brother."

Maxine stopped in her tracks, staring at her colleague. "The Great Saiyaman is your brother?"

"Yes. That's why I'm so cut out for police work. I learned from the best."

Max rubbed her head, almost as if she was thinking. "Oh wow… I really had no idea, did I?"

Goten smiled. "Does it matter?"

Maxine frowned, still thinking. "And what about your mother, what about your father? I mean, the Great Saiyaman is unbelievably strong. And he can fly, too."

Although Goten knew it likely wasn't very good to shock Max any further, he had to make sure she believed him. He wanted her to believe him. He wanted her to understand. He wanted to tell her everything, wanted to pull her into the circle of people that knew of his heritage.

"Do you trust me, Max?" he asked.

"I trust you."

At that, he took her by the hands and lifted the both of them off the ground by elevating slightly.

"The Great Saiyaman's not the only one who can fly, Maxine."

Maxine's eyes grew, and she stared at Goten. "You are the Great Saiyaman!"

"No, my brother was the Great Saiyaman. I'm just his pesky little brother."

Max smiled, not feeling afraid. "Can you just elevate or can you really fly?"

The Son smirked, and pulled Max with him, into the sky, where they stayed for well over two and a half hours.

As they landed on the bistro's roof, Max lost her balance. Goten was fast enough to catch her. He looked at her intensively. Maxine couldn't remember ever having experienced something as exciting and fulfilling as a flight quite like this one. Her cheeks were flushed, the Son noticed, her eyes sparkled in the sunrise, and he couldn't help but want to hold her like that forever. When his lips neared hers, something in her features changed, and the both of them snapped out of their spell.

"Let's grab that breakfast you wanted so badly," Max said evasively. "I could use a strong coffee myself, Great Saiyaman."

Goten nodded, then pulled Max with him off the roof, and they both landed in front of the bistro's doorstep. So much for the romance.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: so much for the romance?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x


	30. Tale 27 Please Stay

**BOOK IV**  
**"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Twenty Seven---Please Stay---**  
Rating: T**

_Thrown beyond taunting hatred  
I remain undaunted  
I am unperturbed  
Refusing to give in  
To this tempting debility_

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

It was a busy night for Aera and Yamuna Tacra. Although the both of them lost complete track of time due to the constant starlight, Aera was careful enough to ask Murass for at least some slight directions. Without Yamuna's knowing, Aera was leading them to places on purpose.

The planet they approached looked barren, almost like a ball of dust. Yamuna Tacra wondered why the hell they had to go there, of all places.

"Healer," she protested. "There's nothing to find out there, only dust and dirt."

After Aera had brought the ship down, ignoring Yamuna Tacra's complaints, the two of them exited. Carefully, Aera took her stuffed dragon with her.

Yamuna Tacra only stared, disinterested, looking at a windy place full of sand. There was nothing here, they were lucky enough to be able to breathe, let alone find anything viable.

Aera seemed occupied with her little stuffed mutt, Yamuna noticed. That stupid Healer really needed at least another two years to grow up. Yamuna Tacra snorted, taking in the surroundings. Nothing revealed any hint of life. Nothing revealed anything but more sand and dust.

:I know, Murass-san: Aera said in her own mind. :But if she can't even sense the complex lives underground in boroughs, she's clearly not ready to head for another planet. She's not even on guard. I really don't know what to say or do.:

:..:Leave it, love. If she continues to be blind, I'll just have to find a way to open her eyes. Perhaps a can opener will do, or a corkscrew. Or a good pull, or—:..: the dragon spoke in her head.

:I'll just tag along. She wouldn't last a minute without me. I thought she was less dependant than this. You think she really can't discern the life forms underground:

:..:Leave it, love. She's just a little daft. All Saiyajin need their lessons, some more than others. I made them this daft. I'm Murass, I do as I please.:..:

:Well, I can't say it comes in handy: Aera complained in thought.

:..:I'm Murass, I don't want everyone to be as smart as you are. Where's the fun in that, love:..:

:Good point.:

:..:I'm Murass, I make points, love. It's what I do.:..:

"Let's get out of here," Yamuna Tacra said to the pale haired girl, waking her from her thoughts. "There's nothing out here."

Aera sighed but complied to the Saiyajin's wishes regardless, entering the spaceship.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Maxine sipped from her coffee elegantly. Goten had never really seen her this graceful before. He smiled, taking another bite from his sandwich, smearing mayo all over his cheeks.

"Fou'fe feen fin…" the Son tried to say with his mouth full. Max laughed at him. He chewed carefully.

"You've been in this business long, Max?"

"Which business?" she asked.

"The policing—"

The Son was cut off by his cell phone ringing. Hastily, he looked for his phone, when Max took it out of his pocket calmly and answered.

"Goten can't come to the phone right now," Maxine joked. "He has a mayo beard so he'll need to fix that, first."

"Who's this?" came at the other end of the line. Goten blushed, looking for a napkin to wipe his face. Maxine answered the man on the phone whilst handing Goten a tissue.

"It's Max, his colleague," she said.

"Err… is Goten there? I really need to talk to him," the reply came.

Maxine frowned, wondering why the person on the other end didn't introduce himself. She handed the phone to Goten, and shrugged when her colleague mutely gestured her to tell him who was on the phone.

"_Moshi moshi_," Goten said into the receiver. He looked at Max, wordlessly telling her it was Trunks at the end of the line.

"What's going on?" the woman heard Goten ask. She couldn't really tell what Trunks was telling the Son but she could hear the distress in the man's voice nonetheless.

"But you had a day off not too long ago," she heard Goten retort. "What do you mean, you can't take it anymore?" Goten wondered, his voice suddenly filling with the same distress as the voice from the other side of the receiver.

"All right, I'll be right over." At that, the Saiyajin man hung up the phone, looking at Maxine worryingly.

"It's Trunks," he said to her. "He has this really demanding job. I think he's losing his mind."

"Well, then go right over, just like you said," Max urged him.

"Will you come with me?"

"No, you go alone. I'll walk back to the station, grab my car and head on home. I'll see you tonight at nine. Shift starts earlier, remember?"

Goten nodded at her. "Want me to pick you up?"

"No, that won't be necessary," she replied. "I'll call you this afternoon, to check if everything's all right."

"Thanks, Max."

"No problem," Maxine said, and she leaned in to peck him on his cheek.

They looked at each other. They both knew how much they liked each other. It was redundant to say what they both already knew. It had been in the air for months.

Blushing, Goten left some money on the counter for the food and coffee, and left. Upon opening the door, Max called to him again.

"Oh and Goten…"

He turned to look at her.

"Get a haircut. You look like shit."

He smiled, looked up through his bangs as if he could look at his own hair and left.

"I will," he said, waving at her with his back turned.

"I like you, Son Goten," she said to herself distractedly. "If only you knew how complicated things really are."

When she noticed all folk in the bistro, including the waiters were staring at her, she blushed and sipped from her coffee, pretending nothing had ever happened.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"All right, class," Mr. Satan said with a strict voice. "Today Ah'd like to introduce a new member to our group. Meet ma granddaughter, Son Pan."

Politely the students – all wearing their gi's – bowed, saluting Pan.

Pan felt rather uncomfortable but soon realized none of the students, let alone any of the sensei would be able to hold out against her in even a practice bout. She wasn't sure whether this should please her or not.

"Pan-chan, why don't ya show them ya're almost as exceptionally powerful as Ah am, hm?" her grandfather commented.

Pan smiled.

"Any volunteers?" Mr. Satan said.

"No volunteers?" Mr. Satan said, somewhat exasperated.

He frowned, then grabbed one of his students by his collar, who tried to run away. "Hey, just because she's ma granddaughter doesn't mean she's as intimidating as Ah am!"

Suddenly, one of the students stepped forward. He was a bit older than her uncle Goten but younger than her father, even if he looked older, Pan assumed. He didn't look like a challenge but he definitely looked stronger than any of the other students. His nose was slightly crooked, his eyes close together under thick black eyebrows. He definitely wasn't the cutest of his class.

"Ha," Pan said, stretching her muscles. "Bring it on."

The man cracked his knuckles, smirking at her. He really had no idea what he was up against, Pan thought to herself.

"You're going down, little girl," the boy said.

"Now Ikosa," said Satan. "Never underestimate yar opponent."

In his heart, Mr. Satan knew Ikosa wouldn't stand a chance.

Ikosa was the first to fire a punch but Pan easily evaded the attack and countered with a quick kick to his face, knocking Ikosa backwards as if he weighed nothing. He only got up to express his surprise, and then fell down again.

From that day forth, Mr. Satan could sit back and let Pan do all the work for him. What point was there in training his granddaughter if she was stronger than he was? He wasn't planning on letting anyone find out the great Mr. Satan wouldn't be able to stand his ground when going against a little girl. Truthfully, Pan-chan filled her grandfather with pride. Truthfully, Mr. Satan gave Pan the love and attention her other grandfather was unable to give.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Goten had been by Trunks' side all morning when the Son's phone rang. Before he was able to finish saying hello into the receiver, a panicked Bulma cut off his words.

"Goten, is Trunks with you?"

"He is. He—"

Again, Bulma cut him off. "Is he all right! Vejiita keeps telling me he's fine but I want to hear it from his own mouth. Can you hand him the phone? He isn't answering his own."

"He threw his cell phone in the pond," Goten answered, looking at Trunks' dismissive face. "He doesn't want to talk." Goten could hear Bulma and Vejiita arguing at the other end of the line, and he wondered what was going on. Apparently, Trunks had left the corporation without word. He could hear Vejiita's threats of fetching his son personally and what not but paid no attention to it.

"Listen," Goten said. "Bulma-san, you still there?"

"Yes."

"This job is too much for Trunks. Leave him in charge of only one department instead, something he actually enjoys, such as promotion or something. He's not cut out for a job at the office," the Son explained.

"I'll see what I can do. Will Trunks be all right?"

"Yes, he'll be fine. He just needs a load off his shoulder."

"Thanks for staying with him, Goten. Thanks so much. You sure he doesn't want to talk?" Bulma pressed on.

"I'm sure. He's sure. We're both sure. Goodbye, Bulma-san." Goten hung up the phone and put an arm round his best friend, who was watching the ducks in the pond quietly from the park bench he was sitting on with Goten by his side.

"You know what you need, Trunks?" Goten suggested. "You need a double Thirdpounder with cheese and a cold beer to wash it all down."

Trunks nodded, looking at his friend thankfully.

"You're my best friend, Goten."

Goten laughed. "Don't get mushy on me now, I'm hungry."

Trunks tried his best to share his friend's laughter. "Yeah, I could use a bite myself."

To a Saiyajin, food solved a lot of problems, Goten had learned just that years ago. With an arm still round his friend, the two of them went to the nearest Mac Domhnaill's. So absorbed by his friend's problems and the thought of food Goten didn't even notice he had left his beeper on the park bench. The beeper in turn started to buzz but no one was there to respond.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Yamuna Tacra closed her eyes with irritation and leaned back in her chair when Aera neared another planet.

"Another barren shithole?" the Saiyajin complained to the girl sitting at the control panel next to her.

"It doesn't look like it," Aera said. She hadn't received any directions from Murass in days so she really wasn't too sure whether this planet was anywhere near what Murass had scheduled in his so called emergency plan. To Aera, it didn't really matter as their resources were running low which meant they needed new resources, with any luck from this planet. If this situation pressed on, they would be without food in two or three weeks. Yamuna Tacra definitely didn't have the metabolism of a dragon. It looked more like she had the metabolism of something else completely, some creature that was hungry again after having eaten less than an hour before. It was just ridiculous.

With a somewhat loud thud, the ship came to a halt in a vast field of rosy grass that reached up to Aera's ears and well over Yamuna's head. Again, Yamuna Tacra was confronted with Aera's superior height. The Saiyajin growled, looking about her.

"It looks like a good place to look for water, and possibly some food. We need all the resources we can get," Aera said, holding her stuffed doll close to her chest. She wasn't feeling at ease in this place but wasn't too sure why.

"Right, you stay here. I'll go look around," Yamuna Tacra ordered.

The lowest bass of quavering reached Aera's earshot and she turned to see what was going on. Her eyes grew at the sight of the cloud coming their way.

Yamuna Tacra did her best to look over the pink grasses and noticed also. "That's a strange cloud," she commented.

"It's not a cloud…" Aera said hesitantly. "It's…"

The thick formation shifted slightly, adjusting into what looked like an offensive position, and the shape increased its speed.

"Bugs!" Aera screamed, diving for the ground to save her skin from the attacking insects. The insects were at least twive their own size and didn't look like they were hospitable to their visit. Flying and jumping in from all sides, Aera soon realized they wouldn't be able to stand up to them because of their sheer number.

Through the thick cloud of insects, she couldn't see Yamuna at all, only heard her battle cries.

"Yamuna!" Aera screamed. "Yamuna Tacra! You can't hold your ground! Retreat!"

When no response came, Aera decided it was time to speak into the killer's mind. Although she wasn't too pleased to creep into the Saiyajin's head again, she realized the only way Yamuna Tacra could hear her was through telepathy.

_:There's too many of them. We have to leave this place.:_

Much to Aera's surprise, the cloud of insects made way for Yamuna's retreat, although they continued to fly and haul over her aggressively. Quickly, Yamuna Tacra jumped aboard, her face and arms scratched, and her hands swollen with insect bites.

"Don't say a word," the Saiyajin scolded, closing the hood behind her, which luckily stifled the thunderous buzzing a little.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll go look for some ointment or something," Yamuna Tacra said, obviously a bit baffled by the colossal army of insects diving for her until only a minute ago.

Aera smiled to herself, then looked at the stuffed doll which she had put onto the control panel by her side.

"Your doing?" she asked it.

"She had to learn to listen. She had to learn to retreat. She learned. It took me the creation of really disgusting bugs, not to mention billions of them before she realized they overpowered her in their sheer quantity but it worked, didn't it? Come on say it, love. Say I'm a super duper genius, love."

She didn't really know what to think of His reply. Sometimes she thought the Higher Dragon made a joke out of everything and everyone.

"Come on, say it, love."

"You did good, Murass-san," she replied. "But did it really have to be so many of them?"

"Hey, where's the fun in one super powerful bug kicking your ass? Been there, done that."

"You make strange points, Murass-san," Aera muttered.

"Never said that I didn't, lovely love. Now give us a kiss."

"But no more bugs. And allow me to patch up Yamuna Tacra before You pull another of Your cranks."

"Cranks? Cranks? You're cranky, love. Cheer up. Cheer up, love. I'll cheer you up," Murass said.

"I bet you will," she replied, and kissed his nose, before she got up to see if a bee-stung Yamuna Tacra was all right.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Trunks face got back its lively colour after he had had his fourth double Thirdpounder burger menu. "Thanks," he said.

"You're welcome," Goten replied, patting his stomach satisfactory. "What do you want to do next?"

"What do you mean? You don't have to go to work today?" Trunks asked.

"Later tonight. I have nightshifts this week. I should've gotten my share of sleep this morning but now I'm beyond sleep. So, what do you want to do?"

Trunks leaned back in his chair, thinking. "I dunno. What do you wanna do?"

"I promised Max to get a haircut," the Son answered.

"You need one," Trunks said in jest.

Goten got up, pulling his best friend with him. "And you need a good pummelling."

It was already late in the afternoon when Goten's phone rang. The hairdresser was just brushing the minute hairs in his neck away, letting the Son and his best friend admire the new, stylish haircut. His hair was short in the back, and the front had been pulled forward into playful bangs.

"Yeah hello," Goten said into the receiver of his cell phone.

"Goten, it's me, Max. Why aren't you answering your beeper!" Her voice sounded distressed, and the sound of gunfire and explosions filled the background with disorder.

"Max, calm down. I have my beeper right here in my pocket." Goten reached into his pockets, to his surprise unable to find the device. "I had it in my pocket all this time. I… what's going on, Max?"

"Shooting… eed backup… … chaos…"

Goten couldn't really make out what she was saying but clearly there had been some kind of emergency to which most of the police force had been called. He'd have to fill in details later.

He hung up the phone and flew out of the hairdresser's chair.

"Trunks!" he called as he rushed out the store. "Pay for my hair and tell my mom not to wait up for me!" Then he disappeared into the sky, making the hairdresser baulk with disbelief.

"So," Trunks said to her shyly. "You look like you need a coffee."

Still perplexed, the blonde hairdresser nodded, and Trunks took her out to dinner instead. He hadn't asked anyone out since he'd still been in college and figured he might as well give it a go. Trunks wasn't looking for someone, perhaps, Trunks was mostly looking for himself.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"You sure what you're doing?" Yamuna Tacra asked the girl as she assessed the damage on her swollen hands.

"I'm sure," Aera replied, rubbing her own hands together and letting the electricity she charged by doing so alleviate the pain and erase any damage the poison still in her blood could do.

Yamuna Tacra watched her carefully. Although the girl had healed her before, she still didn't understand why this girl could be bothered healing someone who had butchered half her family and friends.

"Did you have many friends back on Chikura?" the Saiyajin asked, after having wondered about it for a long time.

"No. Most of them died at a young age. Most of them were long gone before I had ever been outside the catacombs."

"What made you go outside?"

"Everything," Aera answered. "Everything about the catacombs pushed me outside, everything about the outside world called out to me, even the destruction. I had lived a sheltered life for too long. I had to see. I had to know."

"Was my sister a friend of yours?" Yamuna Tacra wondered.

"Nita was one of my best friends. She was a lot older than me but we understood each other. Her death… her death changed me."

Yamuna Tacra looked down. She knew she must ask these questions. She had to understand. She had to know why this girl was tagging along. She ignored the stinging sensation Aera's healing brought upon her sore legs and she looked at the girl again, who was solely occupied with healing. "How did it change you?" Yamuna pressed on.

"I began to accept my fate."

"Your fate," Yamuna Tacra huffed. "And what's that, your fate?"

"To be with you," Aera answered. "Now get some sleep. You can ask more questions later. You need some sleep first."

"Who are you to tell me what I need? And what kind of stupid answer is that? What's your fate!"

"Sleep."

Yamuna Tacra pulled the girl down by her collar, pulling her close to her own face. "I'm not gonna say this nicely again, answer me or I'll put you to sleep!"

"Very well," Aera said, straightening. "My fate is to be with you. Part of the Saviour resides inside of you, is part of your soul. And it's part of me, too. One way or the other, we need each other to stop the Hakaisha."

"I don't need you," Yamuna snorted. "I don't need anyone."

"Yes you do. And you know it. Now sleep. I'll explain later what this means."

"Ha. I bet you will. Everything's always later," Yamuna said. "You might as well get some sleep, too."

"I will, later."

Yamuna Tacra rolled her eyes, folded her arms and tried to stay awake until Aera had left her dormitory and she could comply to Aera's advice and sleep. She was absolutely spent, tired and sore as well. As long as Aera didn't think she, the Saiyajin warrior --- the Perfect Warrior, did what that puny little Healer told her to all was fine with her. And she didn't need her. She didn't need her at all. She needed no one.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Goten focused his energy to sense Maxine's life-force. He could sense a hint of her power to the east of Satan City's southern district but it was actually too feeble to be her. However, Son Goten was positive it was her, which worried him. Was Max in pain? Was she hurt?

He augmented his speed, praying to God he wasn't too late.

Clouds were already gathering, and Goten knew the rain would blur his vision. This was one thing he couldn't use right now, one of many things.

The downtown south side of Satan City had had its share of criminal activity since as early as Goten could remember. He remembered his big brother Gohan had to fight crime as the Great Saiyaman in all of Satan City but in the southern district in particular. Traffic was in complete chaos, and when Goten focused on the centre of the mayhem he noticed several police cars, a mini van and a lot of money bags scrambled across the square in front of South Satan Bank. This had been a robbery that had escalated in a shoot out, Goten noticed. One helicopter hovered over the scene, and as far as Goten could tell it was of one of the local television stations, definitely not one belonging to the police force.

When he saw Max's police car, he let himself drop out of the sky not bothering if anyone might see him.

When he kneeled behind the car to avoid being hit by astray bullets, he glanced about him to look for Max.

"Max!" he called. "Max where are you?"

The reply he got was soft and muffled. "I'm right here, Goten. I… there's too many of them." She sounded as if she was in pain and Goten saw her leaning against the backside of her car.

He crawled over to where she was and only now did he notice her stomach was drenched in blood, as was the street. This was her blood, Goten knew.

"Max," he hissed. "What happened? Why aren't you wearing your bullet-proof vest?"

Maxine managed a laugh. "It's a little late for that, huh Goten?"

"What happened?"

"I got beat. One of them machinegun mockheads got me," she answered relatively calmly.

"But how? Why… why didn't you call me any sooner!" Goten was trying to fight his anger and his fear but wasn't really managing with any.

She put a hand to his cheek, and smeared a streak of blood just below his eye. "Your friend needed you. Don't worry, I covered for ya. I tried to be a hero, Goten. I wanted you to… I…" She sighed, not knowing where her words were leading her, not knowing what she really wanted to say anymore although she'd been having this conversation over and over in her head, waiting for him to get here. Now that he was here she just didn't know what to say anymore.

"I'm not like you, Go-chan," she stammered. "It's cold. I didn't think it would be cold. It sounds too cliché but it really is… cold."

Goten embraced her, pressing her hard against his chest. He fought a sob; he knew she was dying. "Why Max? Why did you have to go alone? Why!" He shook her, beyond himself with frustration, not understanding why any of this was happening.

She tried to push him off of her, to look at him. He sat up, looking at her eyes, which no longer looked as dark as they used to, they seemed paler somehow, less lively.

The rain started to kick in, slowly at first, more violent as the clocks of the Satan City Tower at the other side of the square ticked on. The rain washed down mercilessly, lashing onto Goten's bare skin, and the Son tried to cover Max from the ongoing downpour.

"You got a haircut," she said. Goten nodded, unable to hold back his tears. He howled softly.

"It looks good. Don't cry," she continued.

Goten pulled up his eyebrows, making a face that mixed helplessness, disbelief and grief. "I'm not crying because of my hair—" he said.

"I know, Great Saiyaman." She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his. She breathed and Goten could almost hear her whisper _I love you_ but was too far out to realize it. She died in his arms.

Goten laid her down gently, caressing her cheek and planting a small kiss on her lips.

He stood, his face vile with rage. With a scream he charged up to Super Saiyajin for the first time in years. The culprits would not get away with this. None of them would.

That day, the Great Saiyaman had finally returned to the streets of Satan City from his long leave.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: Yes, I know I'm horribly mean taking Max from Goten. I know I need to explain why I pulled that one. But you'll find out. Trust me, you'll find out why I killed her off. As for the rest, just take it as part of the plot. Everything happens for a reason, remember those words.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x


	31. Tale 28 On A Mission!

**BOOK IV  
"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Twenty Eight---On a Mission!--- **  
Rating: T**

_For underneath the wings  
I chose to spread in full glory  
I refuse to cast an equal shadow  
I control the raging fury  
I capture the insane laughter  
Closed up in a golden box  
And thrown in the lap  
Of an unmarred virgin_

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

To the outside world, Goten took Maxine's death rather well. His mother, however, could feel her heart sink each night Goten wouldn't sleep in his own bed. She had no idea what he was up to nor where he was going. She sensed a great deal of pain every time her son avoided her questions and the pain wasn't hers; it was Goten's. His smile was still there but it was as if Goten wasn't.

Now, more than ever, she wished Goku would come home. Goku had always been able to lift even the heaviest moods and somehow she knew he might be the only one able to reach out to Goten at a time like this. She hadn't the slightest clue on what was going on, not even after Gohan had told her it had something to do with her son's colleague, Maxine, who'd been shot in the wake of a robbery. Goten had always been sensitive but he'd also been the stronger of her two boys. Where Gohan had always had to fall back on her – and later, Videl – Goten had always been able to take care of himself, finding his support elsewhere, and with Trunks mostly. Goten didn't tell her anything. Gohan had no idea what Goten was up to and so ChiChi was slowly at her wit's end. She walked out of the kitchen into the hallway and picked up the telephone, dialing a seven-digit number.

"Moshi Moshi," a girl's voice at the other end of the receiver said. Her accent was southern and a little unsophisticated. "Briefs Family reysidince, Icalla speakin'."

"Icalla?" ChiChi said hesitantly. "I… I'm looking for Bulma, is she in? Tell her it's ChiChi."

"I'm the babysit. Mrs. Bulma ain't yn at thu momeynt. She's owt ta dynner with her husbind. I cou'd write douwn a message if ye wanna?" the girl replied.

ChiChi contemplated on the girl's suggestion for a little while, then decided against it. She had to know. She had to know right now. "Do you have any idea at which restaurant Bulma and Vejiita are dining? I'm a friend of the family and it's rather important that I get to talk to Bulma."

"Has ye tried her cell yet?" the girl suggested.

"I… I don't have her number," ChiChi said.

"I ain't sure if I can go ahead an' give it to ye… I dun know who ye'are."

"There's no time to worry about that!" ChiChi barked into the receiver. "Hand me that number!"

Clearly, the girl was getting intimidated and was talking to someone on deciding what to do.

"I… uh… what wuz yer name again, ma'am?"

"ChiChi!" ChiChi exclaimed, trying her best to calm down. "It's ChiChi. Her son and mine used to attend the same school. We've known each other since childhood. Please hurry."

After a minute silence, the girl finally responded. "Ah, that's okay, ma'am. Ms. Bura knows who ye'are. She says her bro and yer son are bestest friends. I'll hand yous the number now, if that's okey."

ChiChi felt she was about to either explode or have a stroke. Seriously, Bulma went out way too often. It was highly inconvenient, to say the least.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Ziyuu had fallen back to her old routine in no time. Seventeen couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't planning on letting something as weak as some booze get the best of, well, a similarly weak creature. No wait, he was planning on letting it happen. What did he care anyway? He looked at her, his eyes empty, his face taut.

"Get out," he said to her with a ruthlessly determined voice.

She looked up, her cheeks flushed because of the alcohol. "Nani?" she replied, as if she had heard incorrectly.

"You heard me," said Juunana-gou. "Pack your belongings and leave. Get out of my house."

Ziyuu got up but almost lost her balance. She grabbed a chair for support.

"What are you talking about, Juu-kun?" she asked innocently. She was seeing stars and was slowly beginning to feel sick. She'd gotten up too quickly, or the combination of martini's and vodka-lime hadn't been a very good idea.

"Get out," the android sneered. "Before I throw you out."

"You're not talking sense, Juu-kun," she said dismissively. "Why don't you go outside for a walk to cool off a bit?"

The android stood from his lazy chair, his eyes dark and only reflecting the soft light from the stove. He said nothing when he grabbed Ziyuu and tossed her over his shoulder, carrying her to the door. With his free hand he opened the door, then set Ziyuu outside, closing the door in her flabbergasted face.

"Come pick up your rubbish in the morning, when you're sober," Seventeen said to a closed door. Ziyuu simply stared, hugging herself in the cold night. She was too stunned to move, let alone say a word. Hold on a sec... what had just happened? Had Juunana-gou actually kicked her out of their house?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The city looked like a busy ant colony from such height. Satan City was a city that never slept. Formerly known as the City of the West, Satan City had grown too big for its britches and by now had swallowed no less than five different villages that were once at the vast outskirts of West Capital.

Son Goten had to watch where he was flying, as the city sky was filled with helicopters, airplanes and compact shuttles. Skyscrapers literally seemed to touch the clouds and Goten ignored people staring at him through their lofty windows, not believing what they were seeing. Some dude, flying!

He decided to take a small detour to the Satan Central Park to land in the cover of trees. He didn't want to rile up a fuss over him flying without help of any motorized vehicle. He rubbed his face, not fighting his headache but not welcoming it either. Jumping over a pond to reach the bustling side of the park, he walked in the direction of the capital's hectic centre, to the Capsule Corporation head office. As the building rose up before him, he seemed troubled, almost as if he was gathering his courage to enter. He walked in through the streetside entrance, greeting the female receptionist.

"Ohayo, Ami-san," Goten greeted the woman. "Is Trunks in? He isn't answering his cell."

Ami smiled at him, knowing exactly who he was, looking in her computer.

"He's taken this morning off to work on his point average, sir," she said. "You can find him at home most likely."

"His point average?" Goten wondered.

"Golf, sir."

"Ah. Thanks, Ami."

"No problem, sir," Ami said.

Goten didn't wait for the woman to even begin to flirt with him as he rushed out of the building, rushed in an alley and took off into the sky.

Capsule Corp. Mansion wasn't too far away from the business centre, and as Goten flew towards the outskirts of Satan City he noticed a familiar chi in the midst of the Briefs' golf course. It seemed Trunks was playing golf with his grandfather, Dr. Briefs.

As he landed Dr. Briefs greeted him with his usual grin. My, Dr. Briefs looked older than he ever had. But Goten paid little more attention to it.

"Ah Goten, come to cheer me on as I'm golfing Trunks right off the course, eh? Ehehehe."

Goten only momentarily smiled, more to be friendly than sincere. He looked troubled, and Trunks walked up to him, mimicking Goten's troubled face with worry.

"You didn't come to watch grandpa beat me with golf, did you?" Trunks asked. Goten shook his head. Trunks handed his club to his nearsighted caddie and folded his arms, waiting for his friend to explain.

"Max died."

Before Trunks could say anything, Goten continued.

"I've thought about it for quite a while but now I'm sure. I wanna wish her back using the Dragon Balls." Part of him was expecting at least some protest from Trunks and he was surprised when he got none.

"Alright," Trunks responded. "When are we going?"

Deep inside, Goten felt his heart warm up to his best friend's offered help and he smiled. "Right now, as far as I'm concerned."

"Ok. First we have to fetch the Dragon Radar back at my place. And I'll have to change." Trunks gestured at his golf hat with his eyes, trying to point out he looked a little ridiculous.

"There's no time," Goten said. "I need those Dragon Balls as fast as we can get to them. All we really need is a bag to hold the balls and your mom's Dragon Radar. Seeing that I already brought a backpack the only thing we need to do now is get the radar and we're ready to go."

Trunks looked at his friend and nodded. "Grandpa," he said to his grandfather. "I'm afraid I'll have to cancel our match for today…"

"Ah, that's quite alright, son," Dr. Briefs said without even looking up whilst putting. "That leaves me with enough time to check the latest Hoochy Mama magazine they sent this morning… erm, I mean, check my latest invention to see if it actually works, hehehe." Trunks face-palmed and followed Goten who had grown impatient and had already taken to the sky.

Dr. Briefs looked at the cat sitting on his shoulder and scratched the back of his head with the golf club still in his hands, knocking out the nearsighted caddie in the process. Dr. Briefs didn't even notice. "I guess that makes me the winner, eh, kitty?"

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Ziyuu wasn't going to sit around and let that bastard Seventeen treat her the way he had. Oh no, she wasn't going to let him get away with it! She grabbed her aircar, started the engine and drove off, not caring she had drunk way too much to be allowed behind any wheel. Barely avoiding a head on collision with a pine tree, Ziyuu blasted off towards her home village of Pine-Pine Town.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Yamuna Tacra hadn't slept long when she opened her eyes again. The stars still shone, and there was no sign of them relenting one bit. She yawned, stretching. Her tail uncurled naturally, only to fold itself around her waist again.

She stood on her bare feet and didn't bother to put on her armour just yet. She needed food. Food first, armour later; she knew how to set her priorities.

She entered the control room, finding Aera behind the panel, nibbling on a biscuit.

"Morning," the Healer said without taking the effort to look.

Yamuna Tacra snorted without a reply.

She needed food. She needed a lot of food. Greetings were for idiots.

She opened a cabinet, but found it was completely empty. She opened another, and another but was again confronted with an empty cabinet. She opened a barrel, kicked a second. Apparently, there was no food left.

"Where has all the food gone!" Yamuna Tacra demanded as she appeared in the doorway, catching Aera's attention.

"It's gone," Aera replied without looking, still nibbling on her biscuit. "I've rationed it. You can find your portion for the day in the top left cabinet."

Yamuna Tacra narrowed her eyes and turned. She growled when she found she couldn't reach the top cabinet, trying to uplift herself with her chi. Although able to uplift herself long enough to open the cabinet, she was unable to look clearly. Again, she uplifted herself, trying to grab the small package that lay in the centre of the cabinet.

At that point, Aera walked in, effortlessly taking the parcel from the top cabinet, handing it to a rather irritated Saiyajin.

"I could reach it myself," Yamuna Tacra sneered.

Aera didn't reply and turned again to walk away.

"Hold it," Yamuna said as she unwrapped the package.

"Yes?" Aera turned to look at the Saiyajin girl.

"What's this?" Yamuna Tacra demanded, gesturing at the tiny package that was filled with about a dozen biscuits.

"Your ration for the day," Aera replied.

"You're joking."

"Not at all," said Aera. "Our supplies have run low. We need to be careful with how much we eat."

Yamuna Tacra managed a chuckle. "Easy for you to say. You're the Grim Reaper, skin and bone."

"Who are you calling the Grim Reaper, killer?" Aera bit at the Saiyajin.

"Temper, temper," the half-Saiyajin girl retorted humourlessly.

Aera regained her composure, intending to leave. "Call me anything you like, Yamuna Tacra. It won't boost your share. Enjoy your meal. While it lasts."

Yamuna's face started to tremble with anger. "I'll give you something to last!" she yapped.

In a flash, Aera turned to look at her again, only to meet with Yamuna Tacra's balled fist soaring for her chin. As the punch connected, Aera was sent flying and the case of biscuits she'd been holding was thrown airborne as well, cookies scattering everywhere.

Aera landed hard against the control panel of the spaceship, and the ship short-circuited.

The Saiyajin woman paid no attention to the alarm that began to buzz from the ship's mainframe, engulfing all of the compartment in a bright red light flashing on and off. She only paid attention to her anger, stomping to where Aera had landed. The Healer had her eyes closed, she noticed. She smirked.

"Had enough already?" Yamuna Tacra solicited.

Aera opened her eyes, and rubbed her mouth. Blood immediately reappeared where it had been but it seemed the pale haired girl paid little attention to it. Her blood was blue, which reminded Yamuna of the girl's royal bloodline, and she glared angrier than before. There was no way these two could be related to each other. "Well, had enough?"

"Have you?" the Healer asked.

Yamuna Tacra laughed unkindly. "And I thought you were wise." She wanted to land another punch but Aera oddly blocked her attempt.

"Ah, so you're not completely helpless," Yamuna commented.

Aera didn't say anything, only looked at the woman leaning over her. She didn't even try to get up.

When the Saiyajin tried to punch the girl yet again, Aera pushed her backwards against the steering wheel. None of them were bothered by the ship's protests, or the fact they were losing altitude quickly, being pulled into the force field of a large, bottle green planet.

Yamuna Tacra growled, then kicked the girl in her face. Strangely, Aera only turned away her face for a moment, stood, staring back at the Saiyajin.

Again, Yamuna flung for her and still Aera refused to fight back.

Only when the ship turned upside down did Yamuna Tacra stop fighting, and she stared at the Healer now atop her.

Aera held her tongue and tried to put the ship back in course but the planet's gravity was too much for the engines. Although slower than before, the ship was still being steadily pulled to the planet's surface.

It was enough to put their fight on hold.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Lunch had switched off the navigation system of her delivery truck when she knew the exact location she was required. She steered the truck onto the ramp of a busy freeway and switched on the radio, playing loud music. After she'd rolled down the window at the driver's seat she smirked happily as the wind blew through her blond hair. She shifted to the next gear. Her car phone started to ring but she only noticed as the radio was automatically dimmed by her handsfree kit. She switched on the 'autospeak' of her phone.

"Yo Kabura, got a new delivery for me, eh?" she spoke.

"Lunch," her boss said in a tone of voice that to Lunch sounded slightly upset. "Lunch, your man called from the hospital. It seems something's wrong with your girl."

"Ziyuu?" Lunch said, suddenly paying close attention to the phone, as if it was the most evil thing she'd ever seen in her life. The other end was suddenly very silent, unsettling Lunch more. "What about her? What about my daughter? Is she all right!"

"I-I'm not too sure, Lunch," Kabura replied, hesitant. "If I understood correctly what Tien said, they're still working on her in the emergency room. Stay where you are, Lunch. I'm picking you up and we'll head to the hospital together. I'm taking the jet. Lunch? Lunch, are you still there?"

Lunch swallowed, her evil green eyes filling with tears. She clenched her teeth, getting a hold of herself and pulling over her truck.

"Lunch?"

"I'm still here. Move it, Kabura. I want to be with my kid ASAP!"

Kabura didn't even bother to hang up and stormed out of his office. All he had to do was go to the east wing of the head office and fire up his jet. He prayed to Kami Lunch's daughter would be okay. Lunch had always been his favourite truck driver. He couldn't stand anything bad happening to her after all she had to go through to raise that daughter of hers, her spitting image. He hoped Lunch would be able to wait for him to pick her up. Lunch could be really unpredictable and unpredictability was something they really didn't need right now.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"Hi mom. Hi grandma!"

Without bothering to properly greet his mother, who was enjoying the sunny day from her reed chaise-longue in the backyard, and his grandmother watering the plants, Trunks rushed inside the house. He grabbed the dragon radar from his mother's desk, and also took his capsule case. He rushed out of the house, again barely greeting his mother and grandmother.

"Bye mom! Bye grandma!"

Mrs. Briefs giggled, continuing to water her plants. "Ooh, he's so full of energy, heeheehee."

Bulma looked at her son from under her sunglasses, somewhat curious.

"You alright, Trunks-kun?"

Trunks turned his head whilst running back to Goten waiting by their airbike. He smiled at his mother, trying to reassure her. "Yeah, fine!" he was barely able to cry out.

As he had his face turned towards his mother, Trunks didn't notice Goten trying to warn him and he ran right into his father, who'd made his way in Trunks' line of movement. Trunks stopped dead in his tracks, completely befuddled until he noticed who he'd run into.

"P-papa…" he started to say, slightly out of breath.

"Oh shut up," Vejiita ordered. "Answer your mother's question properly, will you?"

"But dad… I'm in a hurry."

"Feh. Don't make me repeat myself, brat."

"But dad…"

Vejiita started to growl. "Do as I say!"

Trunks sighed, lowering his head in defeat. At that point Bulma had walked up to the two of them. Her boobs jiggled in her tiny black bikini and Trunks looked away in utter shame. Sometimes, Trunks was really ashamed of his prude parents, both his mother as well as his father.

"Mom," he said, his face turning serious again. "Goten and I are gonna find the Dragon Balls. I'm borrowing your Dragon Radar, if that's okay with you."

"Ah, that's perfectly fine with me, dear. Are you sure you can combine such a quest with your job at the office?"  
Again Trunks sighed, not really wanting to talk about his job right now, knowing his best friend was in a bit of a hurry to wish Maxine back.

Vejiita poked him with a fist. Trunks stiffened, then assured his mother.

"I… I uh, finished all preparations for the meeting tomorrow and let my assistant Robu take over for a little while. I told him to run things by you before making any major decisions because he still needs your signature to do anything."

"Ooh, well done!" Bulma told him proudly, clapping her hands. "Seems you're finally able to balance business and pleasure a little! So watcha gonna wish for, eh Trunks-kun? A girlfriend maybe?" She giggled, making a ridiculous face. "Oh I remember heading off to find the Dragon Balls and wish me a boyfriend--- the tales I can tell. Ha, I remember the time when…" She trailed off.

A sweat drop appeared on Trunks' brow, as well as on Vejiita's. Trunks breathed in and out, but still screamed at his mother in utter shame.

"For your information, ma, we're wishing back someone who died! She was very dear to Goten so if you don't mind we're in a bit of a hurry!"

Vejiita started to disapprove of Trunks for raising his voice to Bulma but at that point Trunks turned to Vejiita to give him what was left of his fury.

"Stuff it, father! You're just as bad as she is!" He calmed down again, walking away. "And at least I don't badmouth her like you do, pa."

Trunks tossed his golf hat on the ground and started the engine of his airbike handing the Dragon Radar to Goten. Perplexed, Vejiita, Bulma and Mrs. Briefs watched while the two left in the distance. Not paying attention to what she was doing, Mrs. Briefs had been watering Vejiita's feet for quite some time. She giggled when she realized her little mistake.

"Anyone want some Sake?" Mrs. Briefs inquired.

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Mr. Kabura was still landing his jet on the parking lot of the Pine Pine Hospital when Lunch had already jumped out, rushing towards the entrance. Kabura didn't really mind; in fact, he understood perfectly fine.

Lunch almost seemed to fly as she burst into the hospital reception hall, grabbing hold of the receptionist desk, screaming into the face of the nearest woman. In that cloud of complete chaos, Lunch was still able to realize pulling out a gun or any other automatic weapon wasn't going to get her to Ziyuu any quicker.

"Where is she!" Lunch cried out, ignoring nurses and other personnel staring at her dumbfounded.

"Where's…?" the stunned receptionist lady stammered.

"Ziyuu Shinhan! Ziyuu Shinhan! My daughter!"

"And you are, ma'am?" the receptionist asked.

"Itadaki Lunch!" Lunch screamed, quite beyond herself. "I mean, Lunch Shinhan," she corrected herself solemnly. She wasn't quite used to using Tien's name yet and she almost threw her head down in defeat, wanting to be with her daughter rather ten minutes ago than ten minutes from now. This obviously wasn't getting her anywhere anytime soon.

"Calm down, Lunch. Calm down," Kabura assured her, having finally entered the hospital. Lunch glared at him but Kabura obviously ignored her anger. "We were called here by Miss Shinhan's husband, Tenshinhan. Their daughter Ziyuu's been in an accident," Kabura explained at the receptionist desk.

At that point, Tenshinhan had made it to the entry hall and as soon as Lunch's green eyes caught his presence, she flung into his arms, firing all sorts of questions at him, rather than bullets for a change. Kabura in the meantime was still talking to the receptionist lady, trying to convince her he may not be family technically but was still about as close to a grandfather to Ziyuu as they got. The receptionist turned towards a colleague, figuring out what to do.

Tenshinhan's face was one showing the earnestness of the situation. Quietly, and completely forgetting about Kabura, Lunch followed her husband to the surgery room where they were still treating their daughter.

"Wh- what happened?"

"The doctor wouldn't say much more than a car crash. He said he'd get back to me as soon as they're done," Tien said, putting an arm round Lunch.

"Done doing what? Having tea and doing a little dance!" evil Lunch bit at Tenshinhan. "Where's that dumbass doctor! Oh I'll… I'll—achoo!"

As Lunch sneezed, her hair turned in a deep blue and her black eyes were filled with worry. She blinked for a moment, figuring out what she was doing here and why Tien was looking so pained. Just then, she remembered. "What can we do?" she asked.

"There isn't much we can do for her right now," Tien said. "All we really can do is wait."

"I'm so scared, Tien. So scared."

"So am I," Tien whispered, pressing Lunch against him, holding on to her tightly.

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Author's Note: The Briefs family is so silly. And let's hope Ziyuu will be okay.

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	32. Tale 29 Where's That Dragon Ball?

**BOOK IV**  
**"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Twenty Nine---Where's that Dragon Ball?---**  
Rating: M**

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Rated Mature: some graphic violence, that's pretty much it.

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A crash landing could almost be called a depreciation of the actual situation. Forest creatures ran, screaming with a piercing sound of absolute panic. Yamuna Tacra lay upside down somewhere in the kitchen, Aera came crawling from underneath the control panel. The Healer looked at the control panel, trying to analyse the outside atmosphere and its amount of oxygen. The percentage of oxygen was relatively low and Aera wondered whether the air would be any good to breathe. She also noticed the gravity was nearly ten times as high as on their birth planet with a steady 68G compared to 7 on their homeworld. She never really got what the G stood for but as far as her godmother had managed to explain it had something to do with the gravity on Earth. She was thoroughly pleased Winter had fixed the device but wasn't too sure why she had used Earth's gravity as a rule to compare other gravities. Still, she estimated it was a figure Winter was familiar with. No matter how she'd look at it, Winter would always be an Earthling, and would never be a Chikurajin. It was only after so many years Winter had gotten used to Chikura-sei's higher gravity and Aera wondered whether she could even sustain a pressure ten times as high herself.

She pressed a button to open the hatch but nothing happened. Yamuna Tacra frowned at the girl, then proceeded to solve the problem the best way she could; through violence.

Although the door was jammed at first it wasn't during the Saiyajin's second try to bust open the door, and the hatch opened by itself, sending Yamuna Tacra flying outside.

There wasn't really much chance for Yamuna Tacra to fly as she was thrown to the ground far below almost instantly.

The spaceship hung suspended in between what looked like two gargantuan trees at the edge of a forest. Yamuna Tacra lay far below into a crater she clearly had formed by herself, as Aera assessed its shape. Aera looked outside, feeling bizarrely pulled down. She tried to stay standing but found it very hard.

"Yamuna Tacra!" she called down. "Are you all right!"

Slowly, Aera was able to make out a moving figure far beneath. Yamuna Tacra seemed to have difficulty standing as well although Aera couldn't really make it out from this distance. She noticed the Saiyajin sat down, as if she was positively exhausted.

There wasn't really much of an option for Aera. She simply had to find a way to get down, hopefully a way much less painful than Yamuna Tacra's flight down.

"Stay there!" Yamuna Tacra yelled. The words didn't reach Aera immediately but when they did she had to cover her ears.

"I'll find a way to get you down!"

At that, the Saiyajin vanished out of Aera's sight, into the forest.

She had a hard time moving with the same grace she usually had. She wasn't sure whether she enjoyed the strain on her muscles or whether she hated it. She didn't know what brought about this force pulling her down but she decided not to let it stop her in looking around and finding a way to get that ship out of those damned trees.

She knew she was being followed though couldn't determine where the eyes looking at her were coming from. Were they coming from the trees above? Were the trees following her moves?

Yamuna Tacra decided to just keep moving until she heard a scream coming from further in the woodlands. She tried her best to increase her speed but found it difficult to get moving. Once she had augmented her speed however, she noticed it was nearly impossible to stop!

She crossed what looked like a path but instantly flew inside the forest across the path again, smashing into one of the trees violently. Well, at least she had stopped.

She walked onto the path, looking into the eyes of some sort of creature which tried to stand on its hind legs. The creature looked female, much like herself but looked far more elegant than she did, and her body was covered in fur. Her eyes were big but slanted, and Yamuna Tacra saw the fear reflecting in them. Only now did she notice the girl's tail and was pleased to find she wasn't the only creature in the universe having a tail.

"So, what was all that screaming about?" the Saiyajin asked.

The creature didn't answer only screamed and leapt out of the way when another creature moved into the vicinity. Its head was big and covered in what looked like little horns. It had pointy ears, much like the other creature but its body was far from elegant. Its skin was of an unnatural looking pink and its lips as out of proportion as most parts of its fat body.

"Who the Hell are you?" Yamuna Tacra demanded.

The plump creature moved closer, smirking.

"Hey fatass, I asked you a question!" Yamuna barked at it.

At that point, the elegant, furred creature vanished into one of the trees. Yamuna Tacra only glanced at it. From the corner of her eyes she noticed the plump creature moved into her personal space the moment she had looked away. She knew it drew back a fist, intending to hit her and she somersaulted over him. The movement cost her more effort than she would ever have thought and she blamed the unknown force pulling her towards the ground.

"You're gonna need more stealth to hit me, fatass," she sneered, and landed behind him, landing on her knees instead of her feet due to the sheer gravity. She gritted her teeth, standing straight again. Beads of sweat were gradually beginning to appear on her brow.

She jumped backwards when the creature tried to hit her again and let her hand blades spring out. As the creature moved into her vicinity once more, she dove her bladed fists to his eyes, driving them into his fleshy face. As she pulled back, the creature's body fell down shakily. Yamuna Tacra was covered in a disgusting purple kind of blood and wiped her face irritably. Somehow killing that creature had seemed too easy. She could feel the creature's strength and wondered why it had fought so feebly instead.

She walked to where she had last seen the other creature and called out to it.

"Hey, whatever you are! Get down from there!"

No response came, so she called to it a second time.

"I'm not joking! Come down here!"

In a matter of seconds, a flash moved stealthily in between tree tops, to land elegantly by Yamuna Tacra's feet, startling her somewhat.

This wasn't the same creature. Although it was at least as elegant as the other one, this one had a darker coat covered in orange stripes. Its eyes were of a darker shade but equally slanted. This creature didn't look nearly as frightened as the other one. But most positively different about this one was its gender. This was a male creature and by the looks of it an angered one. It gnashed its teeth at her and she couldn't help but find it a primitive thing to look at.

"Friend of hers, I presume?" she asked.

It didn't answer. It merely hissed at her, readying to strike.

Yamuna Tacra noticed it wore a blade strapped to its back and she logically wondered whether he was any good as a sword fighter. She immediately regretted not having brought her knives.

"What do you want?" she snorted as he still refused to respond.

It lashed out a clawed hand and Yamuna tried to jump backwards, to find the gravity pulled her to the ground. She fell, only to get up instantly.

"Leave us alone!" the creature hissed.

Yamuna Tacra snorted again. "And I thought a thank you very much would be in place. This is the last time I saved any of your furry asses."

She turned to walk away, but the creature had moved in her way once again. She narrowed her eyes.

"Beat it, bushwhacker," she said.

When he finally grabbed his sword, Yamuna Tacra didn't hesitate and blocked his sword with her hand blades.

"What part of _beat it_ didn't you get, idiot?" she sneered.

"Dace! Stop it!"

The both of them looked at the slender figure jumping from one of the trees. It was the same creature Yamuna Tacra had met earlier. Her coat was of a pale auburn and had hardly noticeable stripes mostly on her back much like the other creature, however less visible.

"I must apologize for my sibling," the female said, moving her tail from left to right in a sleek motion. Only now did Yamuna notice the creature had small fangs in the corner of her mouth. They both looked like predators but apparently were unable to fend off the ignorant pink blob the Saiyajin had just cut up.

"He doesn't know any better," the slender female continued.

Yamuna Tacra said nothing, only observed the two. The female looked relatively calm and calculating, the male looked like he still wanted to attack her. She didn't mind however.

"My name is Brynnah," the female said. "And this is my brother, Dace."

Yamuna Tacra nodded questioningly. "They call me Yamuna Tacra."

"That's an interesting name," said Brynnah. "Does it mean anything?"

"No," Yamuna lied.

"What kind of creatures are you?" Yamuna Tacra asked, hoping to change the subject to avoid further questions.

"We're Feline. We live mostly in trees and—" Brynnah started to say before she was cut off by her brother.

"Stuff it, Bryn. Don't be such a fool!" he hissed at her crossly.

Brynnah pushed him away from her. "Don't boss me around," she sneered.

She then turned her attention back to the Saiyajin. "The Crothians are our enemies. They came here little over fifty years ago, claiming the place as their own. It's since then we live in trees. It's not safe on the surface."

"I'm guessing that pink lump over there was a Crothian?" Yamuna Tacra presumed.

"Yes. His name was Boria," Brynnah said. "Won't you come with us? An enemy of the Crothians is a friend of ours."

"Don't be so naïve, Bryn," the other feline complained. "You can't possibly know her intentions."

Yamuna Tacra cracked her knuckles. "My intentions are to get some food. I haven't had a decent breakfast because my companion thought it was a good idea to ration our supplies…"

"Your companion?" Brynnah wondered.

"_Kuso_," Yamuna sweared. "I forgot about her. She's stuck up some tree."

The male snorted. "Then good luck to you getting her unstuck," he commented.

Yamuna Tacra glanced at him, wondering what the fuck was his problem. She ignored him however. It wouldn't be very strategic to kill him. Not right now anyway.

She sighed. She really didn't want to explain. That stupid Healer was so much better at this anyway.

"Perhaps we can help you out," Brynnah propositioned.

Yamuna Tacra watched the feline's brother mimic her in a rather childish way. She really didn't get what his glitch was.

"I can assure you it was a long drop down. I doubt said companion would survive such a long fall much less without breaking something. I still have a headache to prove what a long way down it was," the Saiyajin said, trying not to sound too eager to accept their help. She had never really understood the concept of asking help. Usually, assistance was given to her as she gave out orders.

Brynnah nodded but something about her reaction gave the Saiyajin the notion neither of these felines really understood what she was saying.

"If you show us where your friend is, I'm sure we can figure out how to get her down, if that's really what you want," the slender female said to her.

Yamuna Tacra started moving back in the direction she had come, ignoring the feline's peculiar idea of not getting Aera down. Even if Yamuna would want to keep her trapped up there, she would need her to gather food. Yamuna Tacra knew absolutely nothing of food, only that it appeared on her plate and disappeared down her throat. And frankly that was all she needed to know of food. If it were up to her she'd simply take one of those felines with her, gut it and hold it over a fire. However… she must admit they likely didn't have enough flesh on their bones to lull even the slightest craving for food. She snorted, checking if the other feline was still following them. That male was definitely getting on her nerves with that attitude of his.

"There it is," Yamuna said, pointing up to the spaceship. Looking up it looked like a longer drop than she remembered. It didn't matter much.

"Yo Healer!" she called up with a deafening cry. "You still up there!"

After a moment, Aera came peering out through the ship's hatch, waving.

"Who's down there with you!" she yelled.

"Some tree-climbing natives!" Yamuna screamed back up.

Brynnah stared at the scene unfolding before her. She didn't get any of this. Either this creature was incredibly strong for surviving a drop this far down or she was talking nonsense. Furthermore, she didn't particularly enjoy the amount of racket she and her companion were producing. Noise usually lured Crothians. She didn't principally enjoy noise herself and aside that, luring Crothians wasn't on her things-to-do list for today.

"Hold on," she said, putting her hand on Yamuna Tacra's arm.

In a flash the Touch of Death turned, and Brynnah instantly noticed the woman didn't like being touched. She pulled away her hand again.

"You fell down?" Brynnah wondered, gesturing with her hand. "From there!"

Yamuna frowned, then nodded. "So I told you." The Saiyajin pointed at the hole in the ground that was still vaguely shaped like herself.

The feline made an incredulous face, her brother simply narrowed his eyes.

"How did you survive?" Brynnah asked.

"I just did. What's so shocking?" Yamuna Tacra commented.

"Well, never mind," the feline said uneasily. "Should I still get your friend down?"

The Touch of Death shrugged her shoulders. "She's not my friend. But apparently I need her."

Again, Brynnah made a face as if she didn't understand but Yamuna Tacra decided to leave it. "Fetch her and we're even. It'd take me forever to get her down from there," the Saiyajin said.

Once more, Brynnah made a face. "You mean, you can climb up there? You don't even have claws!"

"What would I need claws for?" Yamuna said somewhat irritated by the feline's stupid comments. She pulled a lock of carmine hair out of her face. She didn't get what all the fuss was about. She killed their enemy, they'd help her get Aera down in exchange. Big fucking deal.

Brynnah frowned. "How else would you climb? Do you use your weapon to climb?"

"No, it'd be a waste of a perfectly sharp weapon," Yamuna commented, losing her patience. "Are you getting her down or what? I'm not planning to stand here discussing nonsense with you all day."

The other feline snickered, then leapt up the tree, climbing up at a remarkable speed. Yamuna Tacra wasn't planning on letting him fetch Aera. She didn't trust that furry bastard one bit. She let her chi uplift her, then jumped up from tree to tree, until she had reached him. Her muscles protested severely, and she knew she'd regret having climbed tomorrow. Regardless, she had gained on the feline rather quickly. She grabbed him by his tail and tried to fling him down, however soon found the gravity was too much for her and she fell down with him.

Dace grabbed hold of a tree with his claws, but was dragged a few centimetre down by the weight of the Saiyajin hanging by his tail. He let out a catlike scream, then hissed with fury.

"Let go of me, you witch!" he roared.

"Tough chance, idiot!" she snapped at him. She was slowly draining her energy with a gravity this strong but she wasn't planning on letting that stupid boy harm Aera. She still had a score to settle with that stupid Healer herself.

At that point, Aera decided it was time for her to jump out of the airship and take matters into her own hands. Although she was afraid the gravity would put too much strain on her body, she also knew her ancestor the Dragon was built to withstand pressures far beyond a measly 68G. She called for the dragon inside of her, stirring it awake as she tried to keep her balance running from branch to branch, trying not to let the enormous height touch her awareness. Although she was not afraid of heights, an altitude like this could get anyone's head spinning. As the dragon was awakened the magnificent blue of its scaled coat was reflected by the planet's single sun, which before this time had not been noticed because of the massive trees covering the area. The blue dragon almost looked like it were made out of glass, reflecting the sun as though it were part of it. Stretching its wings, the massive creature landed gracefully and shifted back into the frail looking Healer.

Yamuna Tacra tried to assess the situation unfolding before her eyes. She would never have thought that weakling Healer had a dragon slumbering inside of her in the first place, much less be able to awaken it, much less be able to control it. For Hell's sake, she didn't even have horns!

She still hung by the feline's tail but neither of them noticed, for Dace was also too occupied with staring at the winged creature.

"Brynnah!" he screamed as his mind reconnected. "Get away from that monster!"

Yamuna Tacra climbed to meet with his face.

"Leave it, kid," she said to him. "That Healer wouldn't dream of hurting anyone. Not even those that candidly deserve it. I should know," she continued. "I killed her mother."

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Goten switched on the Dragon Radar, making its range as big as possible, to figure out which dragon ball was anywhere in the vicinity. Trunks looked over his shoulder, to look at his friend, sitting behind him on the airbike.

"Which way!" Trunks called, overpowering the blustering wind at this height. He regretted not having brought a jacket as it was quite chilly at this altitude.

"The nearest is about 7.000km to the northeast," Goten replied.

"Wha!"

"About 7.000km northeast!"

"Oh! Right! Hold on, Goten, I'm switching to Mach speed!"

Trunks augmented the speed of the airbike and Goten grabbed hold of Trunks' shoulder as not to fall off the bike.

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A/N: Yes, I took way too long to get on with it. I'm heartily sorry for it. As usual, a lot happened in the meantime but I'm not going to name any excuses. Once I've worked my way through this and the following several chapters I can safely say I've struggled beyond the most difficult character development as far as at least Goten, Juunana-gou and Ziyuu are concerned.

Pine-Pine Town is a city thought up by Toni Ferraro, Mr. Kabura and Icalla also belong to her; she's written a really great fanfic on Lunch and Tien and has given me the basis of Ziyuu's origin by writing that story (saves me a lot of work!). Go read her story; it's in my favourites list.

Will Goten be able to gather all the Dragon Balls? Will Ziyuu survive the horrible accident?

And in what world did Aera and Yamuna Tacra end up?

Find out in the next instalment of DBU: Tale 30 Get that Dragon Ball!

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	33. Tale 30 Get That Dragon Ball!

**BOOK IV**  
**"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Thirty---Get that Dragon Ball!---**  
Rating: T**

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"You are not of this world, are you?" Brynnah asked the Healer. Yamuna Tacra observed them, unsure how Aera could've gained the feline's trust this easily, especially after her stunt of turning into a Dragon. She huffed, folding her arms. She still had a hard time adjusting to this planet's strange force, and she felt more tired than usual, almost as if the air was harder to breathe.

"We came here by accident," Aera admitted. "Though I can't say we didn't need to find a planet that wouldn't be hostile. We were running low on supplies, you see."

"Bryn," the other feline interfered. "We cannot stay here. The surface isn't safe. You had no business leaving the village in the first place. It's best we go back."

"You had no business following me, brother," Brynnah retorted. "I was collecting herbs."

"We must go back, Bryn," Dace urged his sister.

"But what about them?"

Dace brushed a hand through his mane, adjusting the bandana he wore to keep all the hair out of his eyes. He folded his arms casually. "They can take care of themselves. You saw what the girl with the ugly tail did to Boria."

Yamuna narrowed her eyes but contained herself despite the insult. The boy was obviously of the sarcastic kind wrapping a compliment and an insult all in one breath.

"Too bad for you, Dace-chan," Brynnah said, suddenly sounding rather cheerful, "But you're not the village elder. You have no say in this."

Dace grunted. "Fine. They can tag along till the border of our village. Not a step further until the elder has decided."

"Deal," Brynnah said, holding out her hand to shake her brother's who childishly refused.

The edge of their village – even if Yamuna Tacra saw no sign of any habitation outside yet more trees – wasn't far away at all, in fact was relatively close to where Yamuna had first met the two of them.

In a flash both Dace and Brynnah vanished into the trees and even Aera had to admit she had difficulty tracking where they had gone.

Yamuna Tacra sat down. Aera however kept standing and Yamuna began to wonder whether the force on this planet affected her as much as it affected herself. She was almost beginning to wonder it didn't. She didn't get that girl. She had definitely landed decent punches on her back in the ship. It made her question her own abilities seeing this girl could withstand such a good punch. Did the dragon give her this much strength?

They had been waiting for well over four hours now, and in all honesty, Yamuna Tacra was growing sick of it.

"We're wasting our time," she said to Aera. "Why not get the supplies we need and get out of here?"

"It's not so simple," Aera replied. "They need our help."

Yamuna made a dismissive face, almost as if she was disgusted by the Healer's words. "Not on your life."

With an agile leap, Brynnah jumped out of a tree and landed in between the two.

"You get to stay," she whispered, "But only if you keep the noise down. Our elder, Achinah, allowed you to stay in one of the caller trees. Again, you'll only be allowed if you stay out of trouble, stay out of the way of other villagers and keep the noise down. Any questions?"

Aera looked at the trees questioningly. "How do we get up there?"

"That's easy," Brynnah replied. "Either you climb or we help you up."

Yamuna Tacra almost laughed seeing Aera's insecurity. So the almighty Healer wasn't so high and mighty now. She snickered. Aera glanced at the Saiyajin who in her turn decided to exploit the moment further.

"Maybe I can toss you," she commented.

Aera didn't even respond, which was a bit of a downer for the Saiyajin. She folded her arms, offended.

"Just come along," Brynnah said softly. "I'll show you."

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They had been waiting for well over four hours now, and in all honesty, Tenshinhan was growing sick of it. Mr. Kabura hadn't talked the entire time and had only at times exchanged worried looks with his wife.

The door opened, and all three stood, looking at the emerging surgeon expectantly.

"Is she –?" Lunch asked, too nervous to find the words she was looking for.

"Surgery went very well," the doctor answered. "Are you her mother?"

Lunch nodded and the man continued. "One of you can go see her now, family only. Are you all family?"

"Mr. Kabura is my boss. And a friend of the family," Lunch said. She turned to Tenshinhan and looked up to him. "Tien, is it okay if I go in?"

"Of course," Tien replied and he rubbed her shoulder to assure her. "Give her a kiss for me."

"I must warn you, Mrs. Shinhan," the surgeon said as he led Lunch down the hallway, leaving Tenshinhan and Mr. Kabura behind. "Ziyuu isn't in the best condition. Her situation still is life threatening and it might take a little while before she wakes up from the narcosis. Her face is slightly swollen as well, and apart from internal damage to various organs, she's broken a couple of ribs and a cheekbone."

Lunch nodded sternly, fighting her tears. "What exactly happened? Is she gonna be alright, doc? I need you to be honest with me. I don't think my other personality can handle you keeping things from me."

The surgeon frowned, not really understanding what the woman was getting at. "It's still too soon to tell. She's had a frontal collision with a gasoline truck. The driver was only slightly injured and he basically saved your daughter's life. The police are still investigating how on Chikyuu she wound up on the wrong side of the road." He opened the door for her and led her inside a small, bright room. "Call me when she wakes up, will you?" The surgeon left in the direction whence he and Lunch had come, perhaps to see Tenshinhan.

Lunch got quite a scare when she saw her daughter. She was wired with all sorts of tubes and was hooked on both a heart monitor as well as a breathing assist. The blue haired woman covered her mouth with a hand and started to cry, kneeling by her daughter's bed. She didn't even dare touch her, just cried and cried.

"Oh Ziyuu-chan, what have they done to you? What have they done?" she whispered. Hesitantly, she planted a kiss on her child's forehead.

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Trunks noticed it was getting colder quickly, and the ocean was increasingly covered with icebergs. He really regretted not having brought a jacket now.

"Stop, stop!" Goten yelled. "We're really close to the dragon ball!"

Trunks slowed the airbike down to the point it was almost hovering in one place, he turned over his shoulder and looked at his friend.

"Alright! I'll find us a place to land."

"How about that big plain up ahead?" Goten suggested.

"Right! Good idea."

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It was amazing to see a complete village in between trees and to watch felines moving between them without any effort. Yamuna Tacra had definitely never seen anything like it.

"That tree will be yours," Brynnah said, pointing to a massive tree which top was completely obscured by the house built around it. "And here's your ride," she continued, gesturing at a basket attached to a rope. "We normally use it to move big portions of food or any other big or heavy objects from the surface to the tree tops and the other way around. Works just as well as an elevator for people, I should presume. When Dace and I were just kittens, we used to play with it for days on end. I'm sure neither of you would be too heavy, so hop on." She smiled and Aera stepped into the basket. Yamuna Tacra rolled her eyes.

"What nonsense," the Saiyajin snorted, as she started to climb the tree herself.

The carmine haired girl soon found looking at a tree and climbing it were two different things entirely. Not only had she used up a lot of energy chasing Dace up a tree earlier that day, she had never climbed up a tree this big. In fact, she had never in her life seen a tree this tall before. As she had almost made it up the final branch that would lead to a floor level on which other villagers moved as if it were not nearly as high as it actually was, Aera caught up from her basket, waving at her.

"It's an absolutely amazing view, from up here," the Healer commented. She stepped out of the basket, looking how Yamuna was struggling to get onto the final branch to reach the level Aera was now standing upon. Yamuna Tacra snarled at the girl looking down to her.

In a swift motion, Brynnah moved next to Aera, smiling, also looking down.

"Need help, Yamuna Tacra?" the feline asked.

Yamuna tried to ignore her and Aera laughed. Brynnah reached out her hand and in response, Yamuna Tacra slapped her hand away, which caused the Saiyajin to almost fall down in the process. So much for elegantly climbing up some smelly old tree.

Dace, who had been watching them from a distance, flung for the Saiyajin drawing his sword. Standing amid his sister and Aera he pushed his blade in between himself and Yamuna Tacra, threatening her.

"Lay a hand on my sister ever again and I'll cut you open," he snarled.

With a surge of anger, Yamuna Tacra found the energy to pull herself up. She met with his eyes, his blade still at her throat. She uplifted her chin as if daring him to attack.

"Heh," she said, her dark eyes meeting his without fear.

She noticed the male was angering himself more over her demeaning response. She smirked to herself.

"Oh stop it, you two," Aera and Brynnah said in one breath. The two girls laughed over their synchronous thought, which alleviated the situation a little.

"Do you wish to settle in your caller tree first or do you want a bite to eat?" Brynnah asked.

"Food," Yamuna commented. "Food sounds good."

Both Dace and Aera glared at the Saiyajin. Aera likely because Yamuna Tacra had been so rude without apologizing and immediately demanding food, Dace likely because he just didn't trust the Saiyajin and simply couldn't stand her.

"What?" Yamuna wondered. "What did I do?"

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

As Goten and Trunks had landed, they looked down to a snowy valley. Few trees covered the area, which made a shelter something not easy to find. Goten looked at the radar, adjusting it's grid to see how far off exactly they were. He pointed in the direction of a mountain behind them.

"It oughta be right there," he said.

"Good thing it's not snowing right now," Trunks commented. "It'd be absolute hell if it were snowing out here this time of year. Thank me for packing my capsule case when I fetched the radar for you," he said, grinning. Goten didn't smile back; he wasn't really in a very cheery mood.

Trunks shrugged, took a capsule from his case and popped it open, tossing it to the snow-covered ground.

"Wooh!" Trunks cheered. "Capsule Corp. Snowmobile 3000! We definitely won't have to climb that smelly old mountain."

Goten tried his best to smile as he entered, sitting next to the driver's seat, waiting for Trunks to board.

"Let's go!" Trunks was about to push the go button when Goten interrupted him.

"What about the airbike?"

"I didn't bring a packing gun so we'll just leave it," Trunks stated.

"Okay."

"Ready?" Goten shrugged and no matter how hard Trunks was trying, he couldn't get a smile out of his friend. "Let's go!" And finally, Trunks pushed the go-button.

With a bit of a disappointing speed, the Capsule Corp. Snowmobile 3000 started to move in the direction of the mountain, it's heavy snowtires making the snow crackle. Trunks made a face noticing how stupendously slow the snowmobile went.

Goten stared at him. "Of course you meant the Capsule Corp. _Slowmobile_ 3000, right?"

For the first time since the beginning of their journey, Goten had made a joke and managed to actually laugh. It alleviated the situation tremendously.

As they both settled down again, Trunks examined the control panel, pressing a few buttons. At first windscreen wipers started to move, then lights flicked on and off, eventually the doors even opened and closed.

"Perhaps…" Trunks started to say as his index finger approached a big red button. "It's this one…" The moment the tip of his finger touched the button, the Capsule Corp. Snowmobile 3000 sped off into the horizon at a neck-breaking speed, pushing Goten and Trunks deeply into their seats.

"_Slowmobile_, eeeeeeeehhh!" Trunks' voice echoed over the snowy area.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Lunch had been sitting by her daughter's bed for well over twenty minutes when Tenshinhan entered, knocking on the door softly.

"Come in," Lunch said. "She's still sleeping."

"Mr. Kabura went home. I told him you'd call once we had more word on her condition. I hope that's okay with you."

Lunch shrugged, holding Ziyuu's hand in hers. Her face was tear stricken and she looked absolutely spent.

"Why don't you try to get some sleep?" Tien suggested. "I'll stay with her in the meantime."

Lunch sat up suddenly, her eyes wide open. "Did you call Juu?" she asked.

Tenshinhan frowned at her, kneeling. "Juu! Her boyfriend," Lunch filled in.

"She's got a boyfriend?"

"Whom else did you think she was living with?"

"I thought she was in campus," Tien hesitated.

"She's in college but lives with her boyfriend back in our old cabin," Lunch said.

"She lives with her boyfriend? And when were you planning to tell me this?"

Lunch looked down, pondering. "Well, I figured my other personality would've told you so I never really brought it up because you didn't bring it up either."

"How could I have brought it up if I didn't know!" he exclaimed.

"What are you guys fighting over this time?" a soft voice murmured. Both Lunch and Tien turned towards the bed, staring in shock. Ziyuu was trying to sit up, having taken the breathing tube from her throat. She groaned in pain.

"Ziyuu, sweetie, try not to move!" Lunch commanded her.

"Mom? Dad?"

"We're right here, beauty." Tien's eyes filled with tears but he managed to bite them back. He swallowed, sitting down at the edge of her bed. Lunch was holding her daughter's hand again, sobbing.

"My head hurts," Ziyuu muttered, her voice sore.

"Do you remember what happened?" Tenshinhan asked.

"She needs to rest, Tien. Ziyuu-chan, you don't have to answer right away. You need to rest."

"I can't remember," Ziyuu replied, ignoring her mother's wishes. "Where's Juu?"

"He's on his way, sweetheart." At that, Lunch looked at Tien meaningfully. Tenshinhan nodded. "I'm on it." Tien left, blowing his daughter a kiss.

"Where's daddy going?" And where's Juu-kun? Where's Juu?" The heart monitor started bleeping more profoundly and with shorter intervals, which was beginning to unsettle Lunch.

"Ziyuu, sweetie, you have to take it easy." She pushed her daughter down again, in the process wondering how on Chikyuu that girl managed to sit up in the first place; must be a big dose of painkillers. "You were in a car crash."

"Car crash? I… you don't suppose Juu's still mad at me, do you?"

"Oh sweetie, of course not. Who could ever be mad with you?" Lunch said, trying to soothe her child, brushing her fingers through the girl's blue hair.

Ziyuu was suddenly near tears. "Juunana was. He threw me out. I didn't know what to do so I wanted to go home. Oh, mama, it's coming back to me! I don't wanna remember. Juu broke up with me, he hates me!"

"Shhh…" Lunch soothed, stroking her daughter's hair. The heart monitor continued to bleep louder and louder.

"Mama, I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to!"

"Of course not, everything will be quite alright."

Lunch, not being a medical genius – or a fervent reader of doctor novels – at first thought the heart monitor had crashed but screamed when she found out what was really going on when a profound beep filled the room and a red light at the other side of the wall lit up.

Ziyuu was going in cardiac arrest.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Although Yamuna Tacra had difficulty eating in the company of others, much less eat food that did not belong to her, her hunger made her not hold back at all. She was thoroughly pleased these creatures were predatory after all. The thought of having to get by without meat a day longer was driving her insane. She gobbled down portion after portion, leg after leg without noticing people were staring at her. The cats seated at the table were the elder, Achinah, Brynnah's mate Ame and a still very much overconfident Dace. Each of them couldn't help but glance at the Saiyajin occasionally. Yamuna Tacra ignored them. She needed food, so she ate food. If they didn't want her to eat their food they should mention it and she'd take it without their permission. Again, big fucking deal.

"We haven't seen any dragons in centuries," Achinah said. "The legend stated you wore horns but neither of you have any. I'm not certain it is appropriate to ask but I'd like to know how that is possible. Our folklore may be just stories to outsiders but our lore is usually very accurate."

Aera nodded, taking a sip from her cup of water. She was slightly surprised its taste didn't differ much from water of her homeworld. "I'm only half dragon. I was never born with any horns. I don't know why Yamuna Tacra doesn't have them but I suppose for the exact same reason. She's a half-dragon also."

Yamuna Tacra looked up from her food, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She chewed, then swallowed, her mouth still half full. "Mine were removed by that asshole. And don't say half-dragon. It sounds stupid."

Aera stared at the Saiyajin however said nothing. The felines also looked at the girl but only Dace had the courage to respond to her words. Aera shook her head. The Touch of Death had so much anger in her.

"What asshole?" Dace asked, before pulling on a piece of meat with his teeth.

Again, the Saiyajin looked up, and slowed her chewing. She snickered. "The Hakaisha."

Much to Yamuna Tacra's delight, the name definitely rang a bell amongst the eldest seated at the table. So, Achinah had somehow learned of the legend, had she not?

The other felines looked at the elder, wordlessly asking for an explanation. Dace stopped eating for a moment, looking at the old woman and Yamuna Tacra back and forth. Yamuna Tacra smirked.

"The Hakaisha?" Achinah whispered.

"Damn straight," Yamuna replied, taking another bite. She noticed her hunger was subsiding, which pleased her.

Aera decided it was time for her to interfere. "It's a very long story. But the Hakaisha has risen again, that much is certain. The man possessed by the Hakaisha, Darken, raised her. I apologize for her behaviour beforehand, she doesn't know—"

Infuriated, Yamuna Tacra looked up, then stood. "Healer!" she barked. "I know how to behave, you stupid wench! Quit interfering with everything I say and do. What Darken did or did not do is none of your business and for good measure he definitely did not raise me. The man could care less about what happened to me. Stop pretending you know every fucking thing! Stop pretending you can understand everyone! And stop pretending that stupid Highest of All or whatever that bungler is called actually communicates with you because he does not!"

Angered, she stormed out of the treehouse, almost falling down the tree because she had forgotten at what height this house was located. She noticed villagers were staring at her and so she decided to climb to the roof of the house and reach one of the higher branches in hopes of being left alone. She definitely did not desire anyone's company right now, especially not that stupid Healer's.

"Dace," said Achinah, adjusting her collar. "You go look for that wounded child. And make sure she does not raise her voice a second time. I'd hate to be confronted with Crothians having found out the location of our village."

"But grandmother," Dace started to protest.

"Right now, Dace. Be a good cat," the elder said.

"Yes grandmother," the feline replied, tossing his napkin on the table and excusing himself.

Then, the elder turned to look at Aera.

"As for you, my child," she started to say. "Mind telling this old cat of your special bond with the universe?"

Aera blinked. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"Start at the beginning. When did the Highest first contact you?"

Aera bit her lip, frowning. "It was a long time ago. I was maybe three years old. Mother had made a stuffed dragon out of an old dress. I loved that stuffed doll. Maybe two days after mother had given it to me, I started hearing voices…"

The night was cool and only a soft breeze managed to reach her skin through the thick foliage of the trees. Yamuna Tacra noticed the shape of a feline climbing to where she sat. She ignored him, knowing it was that stupid boy, Dace. She figured either he had come to try and kill her – if so, she'd decapitate his wanton self. Or perhaps someone had sent him to check if she was all right – if so, she'd decapitate his wanton… no, she'd send him away. That was the proper thing to do, right?

She put her chin in her hands, her elbows on her knees. She kept balanced using her tail. She hated this place. The forest gave her an equally locked up feeling as the Ryuuguu palace had always done.

She watched him as he pulled himself onto the branch she was sitting on. His eyes lit up in the gentle moonlight, and the Saiyajin couldn't help but wonder how well his sight was in the dark.

"What do you want?" she sneered as he'd finally seated himself next to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Yamuna Tacra was surprised part of her thought he actually meant it.

"What do you think?" she retorted.

"I think you're keeping a lot to yourself. Perhaps more than necessary."

Yamuna huffed. "I think you should mind your own business. Perhaps more than necessary."

Dace unsheathed his sword and Yamuna Tacra glanced at him. The feline took a grindstone from his pouch and started sharpening the blade. He didn't say a word, which unsettled the girl a bit. What the hell was he doing? What kind of game was he playing?

"You any good with that sword?" she asked eventually.

He didn't look up when he answered, simply continued to focus on the blade. "I outclass everyone in this village, in case you were wondering," he stated proudly.

"Seems like a real challenge, outclassing a hunter-gatherer type folk. Any real standard to prove your claim?" she said, unimpressed.

The man looked at her, narrowing his eyes. "If that's a challenge, I accept."

"You want to take me on?" Yamuna Tacra commented. "You have a death wish?"

Dace stood, sheathing his sword again. "Apparently so. You have a sword?"

"I don't," the Saiyajin answered.

Dace couldn't help but laugh, leaning against the tree trunk casually. "You don't even own a sword and you're already full of it."

"Apparently so," Yamuna bit back.

The feline shook his head. "Meet me at that distant tree," he said, pointing to a tree at the edge of the forest. "On the third major branch from below. I'll bring you a sword."

Yamuna narrowed her eyes, considering his words. "You want to duel up a tree. Why not on the ground? If you fall, you die."

"So will you," he argued.

"Hardly," she said self-assured. "I survived it once, from at least that height. I can do it again."

"If you're lucky," the feline spoke, then vanished back inside the treehouse.

Yamuna Tacra stretched her muscles. To her surprise, they felt somewhat sore, likely due to the same force pulling her down, a force that Healer called 'gravity'. She snorted, then prepared to use her chi to jump from tree to tree. Much to her fury, she noticed this, too, cost her far more energy than usual. Exhausted, she reached the third branch of the tree the boy had mentioned earlier. She hoped he'd take a while to get to the remote branch. She could use a bit of rest.

"Miss me?" he said, waiting for her from a branch reaching over her head.

She narrowed her eyes. "How long have you been sitting there, boy?" she snapped.

"Long enough to have watched you get here. You're not in the greatest shape, are you?"

"Shut up, _baka_!"

"Sticks and stones…" Dace reacted, tossing a double-edged sword in her direction, and unsheathing his own. "Ready?"

She caught the blade without effort.

Yamuna Tacra narrowed her eyes, strengthening her poise and twirling the sword to get a feel of its balance. "Shut up, _baka_!" She lunged for him, ready to strike.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"It oughta be around here somewhere," Goten said and Trunks pulled over the snowmobile. Trunks looked over Goten's shoulder at the radar.

"It's almost directly below us. I think we're gonna have to dig," he told him.

"Maybe it's just under a small layer of snow. It'd hate to waste time," Goten countered.

"Then we'd still have to dig for it," Trunks contradicted. "The layer of snow and ice is at least 2000ft deep. That's quite a dig. Wait, I'll try to digitalize the dragon ball's signal into a 3D rendering on my watch. It has an advanced AI processor installed so it might do the trick in deciding the exact location of the dragon ball. Hold on a sec."

Goten really had no idea what Trunks was talking about but figured he'd find out and see for himself what on Chikyuu the guy was talking about soon enough. He remembered looking for the dragon balls seemed a lot easier when he was still a kid. He didn't remember ever having to use some advanced 'a-eye progressor' to find a dragon ball.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She had a hard time keeping her balance when the man before her not only blocked her strike but retaliated in one quick motion, the tip of his blade barely missing her cheek. Angered, she drew back her sword, using her chi to uplift her. When she was unable to levitate much, she decided to change her strategy and instead fired a triple combo at the man, using only her sword.

The boy smirked, avoiding her attack without effort. He jumped to another tree, running from branch to branch. She followed him, albeit not without difficulty. The gravity of this planet was not only beginning to irritate her, it was beginning to become a burden draining her energy. She let out a scream, powering up. At that point, she once again used her chi to increase her speed, and before the boy noticed what was going on she had gained on him, her blade at his throat.

She narrowed her eyes. "You're clever, I admit that. But you're nowhere near as strong as I am once I've gotten used to your planet's gravitation."

Dace raised an eyebrow, not the least intimidated by the Saiyajin. "Our planet's what?"

Yamuna Tacra drew away her sword. "Gravitation. The force pulling you to the ground. Yours is about ten times the sum we had in our world," she said. "Don't ask me what that means, all I know is that it drains my energy and weighs down on every part of my body. It feels heavy, and it makes it harder to breathe."

The boy snickered. "You're looking for excuses. I'm a better fighter than you are. Why won't you just admit it?"

She glared at him. "Is that so?" She focused her energy, clenching a fist. As she opened her hand a ball of energy was charged and she let it drift on her index finger. She spotted his reaction; he looked absolutely appalled. Good, she thought to herself.

As she slowly turned the tiny white ball moved along with her and she gently shot it away, letting it breeze in between trees to collide with a distant tree, which exploded on impact.

She smirked. "A blast like this can be controlled in such advanced way the entire forest won't even burn down." she spoke confidently, "How about that, huh?" She licked her upper lip, looking at the boy next to her.

"Well, _baka_? Top that."

His upper lip trembled, she noticed. He narrowed his eyes. "Are you out of your mind?" he scold her. "Not only did you just risk burning down our entire village… even a blind man would have noticed such an explosion! This place could be crawling with Crothians in no time if you'd even consider repeating that stunt." He was deliberately keeping his voice down, she assumed. She huffed, raising an eyebrow.

"You call that an explosion? That was nothing," she bluffed. "You should lighten up. You could smell the Crothians a mile away even if they were coming. Speaking of which, I could use a bath myself."

She jumped to another tree, then hopped to another, walking away.

He just stared at her, wondering what the fuck was her problem.

At that, she tossed him the sword, which dug its way into the tree trunk right in front of his face, missing him by a thread. He stared somewhat dumbfounded.

"Nice shot," he muttered.

"I was aiming for your head," he heard her comment from a distance.

Yes, he definitely wondered what was wrong with that woman.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Lunch was beyond herself when she was ushered outside by one of the nurses. She was pleased she didn't have to sneeze or her other self might cause a scene and endanger her daughter further than already was the case. She sobbed, standing in the hall all alone, as Tien had either left to fetch Juunana-gou or was calling him in a booth below in the main hall. She turned when she felt a hand touching her back. It was Android Seventeen.

"She'll be alright," he told her sternly.

"Oh, Juu-san, I really don't know what to do. I really don't know!" She flung herself against him, sobbing on his shoulder. Juunana-gou patted her back awkwardly but allowed her to slobber on his shirt. He didn't really mind. His blue did it often enough anyway.

He'd lied to her. He didn't know if Ziyuu was going to be all right. He had come as soon as he'd put himself beyond his anger. He'd immediately felt something was wrong the moment Ziyuu had started the engine of her aircar. He had allowed her to drive and he shouldn't have. This was his fault.

The doctor exited, his face slightly poignant, his eyes dark.

"No! Don't tell me my girl's dead!" Lunch screamed, grabbing the doctor by his collar. The man adjusted his glasses.

"Please calm down, ma'am," he ordered Lunch and at that, Lunch sat down in one of the stools in the hallway. He turned to Juunana-gou.

"Are you the patient's husband?" he asked.

Lunch gestured in between sobs. "He's her boyfriend. They were living together."

"Ah, I see. I have some good news and some bad news for the both of you."

Lunch stood, looking at the doctor with big, teary eyes.

"Ziyuu survived the cardiac arrest. Don't ask me how because it was a very close call. Someone at the other side must really want to keep her here. However, she did slip into a coma because she had to go without oxygen in her brain for a while..." When he noticed Lunch was beginning to hyperventilate he tried to calm her down. "Now, a coma onto itself isn't necessarily a bad thing. It's her reaction to shut down from the outside world so that she can wholly focus on healing."

"Her condition is stable now," he eventually said after he got no response from either Lunch or Juunana-gou. "So you can go in and see her."

Juunana-gou glared at the doctor, not trusting the man one bit. He hated hospitals. He hated doctors. He hated everything about this place.

"Her condition is stable, you say?" he sneered. "She just had a heart attack. She almost died. And she's in a coma. You call that a stable condition? You must not be functioning properly, idiot."

"Juu-kun," Lunch started to say.

"That's quite alright, ma'am," the doctor interrupted. "I can understand he's upset. But he should understand this is a hospital. He shouldn't do anything as to upset the patient any further. She really needs her rest or there will be little left I can do. Is that clear?" He looked at the android harshly, then continued on his way.

"Doctor!" Lunch called after him, and the man halted for a moment without turning to look at the woman. "Thank you."

"I'll check on her again in an hour. All the best to you and your daughter, Mrs. Shinhan," he said just before he vanished around the corner. Apparently, the doctor had felt Juunana-gou's aversion and wasn't really sure how to deal with it.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"That's odd," Trunks said, looking at his watch, which he had connected to the Dragon Radar.

"What is?" Goten asked, waking up from his little snooze.

"There appears to be some sort of cave underneath all this snow. I'm not sure if the cave's ceiling is strong enough to hold up all the snow if we puncture a hole in it."

"But… the dragon ball must've gotten there somehow. There must've been a way in for the dragon ball."

"I checked this area. There's no entrance of any kind not even a gully or the smallest opening."

Goten rubbed his chin. Trunks did the same.

"I guess it entered that cave somewhere else and rolled all the way down here," said Trunks. He checked his computer watch, examining the shape of the cave. "It seems this part of the cave is the lowest. It has a slope on both ends. Either it came in from the north or the east passage of the cave. I can only assess it properly from at least some altitude so I'm going outside and check it from above. Be right back."

Goten nodded. "Is it gonna take long, you think?"

Trunks exited the snowmobile and showed his friend a thumbs-up. "Piece of cake."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The night was offensively sultry and she had a hard time falling asleep. She wasn't used to sleeping in a tree, not used to the sound of moving wood and rustling leaves. She wondered how Aera did it. She wasn't sure how but she sensed the girl was sound asleep even if she was in a different room of the treehouse. She turned to her side, then to her back again. Her tail lashed onto the floor nervously. Sleeping on a bunch of pillows in a tree wasn't exactly her idea of relaxation.

She sighed, closing her eyes angrily. She needed sleep. This planet's strange force was getting the best of her, getting on her nerves and wearing her out. This stupid tree wasn't going to be able to do the same, damnit!

She opened her eyes when she noticed she couldn't move. Where was she? She knit her brow angrily. She knew exactly where she was.

"What the hell have you done now, old man!" she heard herself scream at the man next to her. _Darken_, she thought half-consciously. _Get away from me. You cannot do this. I won't allow it. Get away from me._

He rubbed her cheek, smiling. "Don't you worry, Tacris. Things will be quite all right in a bit," he spoke in a frightening voice. She bared her teeth, growling. _How dare you, Darken. I will kill you._

"Let me go, you moron!" she screamed.

"There is absolutely no need to scream, Tacris. And it will be pointless at that," he spoke, turning away from her to read in what to her looked like an old book. "However, you might give me a slight headache. It will be only for the best—so you might want to shut up for a minute and listen to what I have to say."

Who the Hell do you think you are, Darken? You think you can change my mind? You think you can tell me what to do? You think I'd even consider listening to your bullshit!

"There's nothing you can say or do that will ever change my mind," she said.

"Ah but you're mistaken there." The man actually objected. She found the urge inside her grow, the urge to hurt him. She tried to pull herself loose. She tried to pull loose again. She didn't understand. Nothing could stop her, especially not some shackles holding her down. What the Hell was going on!

He turned around suddenly, and she tried to read his intentions. Before she knew what was going on, he drove a sharp object into her chest, twisting it in her heart. She screamed.

You cannot do this to me! How dare you, asshole! How dare you! 

She squirmed, trying to fight the pain, trying to break free. She'd teach him not to mess with her. She'd teach him!

But she couldn't break free. She couldn't fight the pain either. And so she decided to not fight, to simply wait for what would be next and work from there.

I will kill you, Darken. I will kill you myself.

"What, Darken? You plan to kill me? You plan to torture me?"

She noticed she could hardly breathe, feeling how her heart thumped against a piece of metal that felt unnatural and cold.

How long will it be until my heart will slow down? How long until I'll die? 

She dismissed those thoughts crossly, pushing them to the back of her head. She should focus on her anger. She should focus on her pain. The pain and anger got her to another level last time. Last time she felt such pain, last time she felt such anger, she had changed forever; the world had changed forever. She had become a Super Saiyajin. She would be a Super Saiyajin again, she knew it. And if she'd transform again, she would kill him.

She pitied him. She pitied anyone who would have to face a Super Saiyajin.

"You want me dead? You want to destroy me? Go right ahead," she said, glaring at him. She ignored the pain, she ignored how it dug its way into her spine. _Pain is for weaklings._

"You still don't get it, do you, Tacris?" Darken hissed, as he narrowed his lifeless eyes.

_What an asshole. How dare he say such a thing?_ How dare he think she were stupid. Did he take her for a fool!

"Get what, old man!" she shouted.

She winced. The pain was getting worse. She heaved, heavier than before.

What was that thing he had driven into her heart?

What the Hell is going on! 

"There is still so much you cannot see. There is still so much you refuse to see," he spoke.

He pulled out the knife, putting his hand against her chest. Apart from a minor twitch, she didn't protest, couldn't protest.

I can't take it. Get away from me, senile old man! Get… There is nothing I can do, is there? 

She gauged at him.

"Things are different now. Because now it's too late," he mused.

She blinked, feeling how a sense of weariness was beginning to take over, drowning her consciousness into some sort of lethargic state of mind.

_Too late?_

"Too late for what?" she whispered.

"Too late to go back. Too late for amends. Too late for everything but total…"

Is he as weary as I am? Is he growing idle? Is he? Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me. What's wrong with his face? What's happening to his eyes? Is my mind really playing tricks? Is it the pain? Is it because I'm afraid? … Maybe it really is too late.

"Too late for everything," he said. "Everything but total… darkness…"

No. This isn't real. This isn't real. None of this is real.

What is he doing? What's going on! What the Hell is happening to me! 

_You cannot do this to me! No, no… please no. _

_Please, just let me go. Don't do this to me, you can't. You can't._

_Those eyes. Those eyes. You're evil. You're more than just evil, so much more. What do you want from me? Leave me alone!_

He was coming closer, she noticed. It was almost as if he was slowly finding a way to crawl inside of her, inside of her all, taking her over. What was this creature?

_What the Hell are you! What do you want?_

"You."

She was certain he had spoken to her. Was he serious!

And then it showed her. It showed her what it meant to suffer, it showed her what it meant to be in pain. It showed her what it meant to not be in control. Steadily, it was taking everything from her. First her body, and gradually it was taking over her brain, her thoughts, memories, her life.

What the Hell are you! 

"You."

Her eyes flung open, and she let out a shriek. She only realized it had been a nightmare when she looked into the shocked face of Aera standing opposite her.

She heaved and regained her composure pretending nothing had ever happened, staring back at the Healer.

"Can I help you?" she said, sarcastically.

"No," Aera spoke. "But I can help you."

Yamuna Tacra looked at her a little while longer, then opened her mouth.

"Go back to sleep."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Goten noticed Trunks elevated to an enormous height, then suddenly blasted off in northern direction, taking a sudden sharp turn downwards by the foot of a mountain. It was moments later he returned smiling from ear to ear. He landed in front of Goten utterly covered in spider webs and spiders. Goten was happy the snowmobile's side window was still between them. He was a little too surprised by Trunks' look to laugh. Trunks smirked, then triumphantly put a two-star dragon ball against the window, showing it to Goten. They both laughed with excitement.

They had found the first dragon ball!

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A/N: How did 17 so suddenly show up at the hospital? Why is Yamuna Tacra giving everyone such a hard time? What's with her dream?

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	34. Tale 31 The Sect of Seven Stars 1

**BOOK IV  
"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Thirty One---The Sect of Seven Stars part one--- **  
Rating: T**

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Quietly, Juunana-gou and Lunch entered Ziyuu's room again. Juunana-gou beckoned Lunch to sit down on the only available chair as he leaned against the far wall, observing Ziyuu. He didn't say a word, only looked at the comatose girl. Lunch immediately burst out crying again but it didn't even seem to bother Seventeen as his face remained expressionless and cold. He didn't move either, and blinked slowly, his ice blue eyes unaffected.

At that point, Tenshinhan had called for Chaozu and the two of them had taken up flight towards their old cabin, near the northern woods. He landed by the waterfall, examining the cabin from a small distance. It didn't seem to have changed that much. A convertible aircar was parked behind the cabin and Tenshinhan figured it must belong to Ziyuu's boyfriend. Chaozu looked up to Tien, feeling the unease in his friend.

"I don't feel any energy, Tien," the eternal child said.

"I know," said Tenshinhan. "He must not be in."

"Where could he be?" Chaozu wondered. "He couldn't have wandered off far without his car, right?"

"Right. Let's check the house. Maybe we can find out something about this 'Juu-guy'…"

As Tenshinhan pushed open the door of the old cabin, Chaozu followed.

"Juu. That's really a strange name. I wonder…" Chaozu commented. He fell silent and Tien stared at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," said Chaozu. "Nevermind. It's probably nothing."

Tenshinhan didn't pry any further but the man's expression told Chaozu he wasn't wrong to have a bad feeling. What would any man in his right mind, and to Ziyuu's liking want to do in the middle of nowhere in some drafty old cabin?

It didn't really make a lot of sense, unless…

Unless he had a reason as to not want to live in the vicinity of other people.

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Trunks looked on the Dragon Radar's display, assessing which dragon ball was closest from this northern, icy mountain range. The radar picked up a signal to the far east, in a slightly southern direction, likely either in the middle of the ocean or on a small island. Trunks figured the likelihood it had hit land in the middle of a vast ocean was slim. It was about time they'd properly test his mother's latest craft, a flight-submerge hybrid.

"We're heading east." Trunks pressed the shrinking button to the side of the snowmobile and watched it pop back into a capsule. He put the capsule back in his case and put it in the red backpack Goten was holding. Goten put the dragon ball in the backpack also, and hung it over his shoulder.

Goten blew off into the skyline, not bothered by the snowflakes that had begun to trickle down from above. Trunks watched him, not worried he wouldn't be able to catch up if he'd stand there much longer. He brushed a lock of hair out of his face and muttered to himself.

"I'm worried about you, Goten. Worried sick about you." He took to the sky and blazed after his friend.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Tien thought the old cabin smelled pretty much the same as it had when he had still lived there with Chaozu and Lunch, years ago. That was long before Ziyuu was even born. He remembered being happy back then. He was relatively happy now, too, but he was also worried for his daughter's well being. He had never felt like this before. His worry had not just rooted because of his daughter's current condition but also because of something else, something he couldn't really put his finger on.

He noticed a gun on the kitchen table, next to a closed laptop. The laptop had his daughter's name written on it with glittery letters. He picked up the gun, examining it. He didn't notice Chaozu walking further inside, to the living area. Tenshinhan figured Ziyuu's boyfriend was a human with no fighting abilities whatsoever. Any normal man living in these remote parts would need a gun to defend himself just in case. Hogs, wolves and bears roamed this area and when hungry, would definitely be tempted to near people. The gun was pretty old, Tien figured. Somehow, the gun looked rather familiar.

"Tien! You've gotta see this!"

Chaozu's call sounded slightly upset. The three-eyed man assumed Chaozu wasn't going to share any good news with him. He had no idea what to expect when he stepped into the living room and frankly, nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see.

There he was. There he was on a framed photograph held up by Chaozu. There he was, his arm around _his_ little girl. His dirty, artificial arms around _his_ daughter.

And then it suddenly hit him. Juu… Juu was Android Seventeen. And Android Seventeen was his daughter's boyfriend.

His little girl had been living together with an artificial human that had tried to destroy the world and everyone on it. If Tenshinhan hadn't been a man used to unwelcome surprises, he would've fainted then and there.

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It didn't take long before Pan-chan had become the best of Satan's students and actually lived up to that reputation. At first there were still a few ridiculously gutsy men who dared challenge her but to most of them simply the mentioning of her being Mr. Satan's grandchild was enough to make them tail and run.

Pan-chan hated it. She wanted to become stronger but there was no challenge in the things her grandfather taught her. She loved her grandfather dearly, even if he wasn't much of a hero. At least he hadn't run out on her like her other grandpa had. She knew Satan-_jiichan_ would always be there for her and so she kept up the appearance that her grandpa was a real hero.

She had since long known Mr. Satan wasn't the heroic warrior everyone thought he was but it hadn't made her love him less. She loved him because he was there for her. She loved him because she knew she could count on him. At least he'd still take her for icecream. Goku never took her for ice-cream anymore. At least grandpa Satan was eager to teach her new martial arts whenever she asked him, even if she knew he could never be as strong as a Saiyajin. It didn't matter to her. And aside that, Mr. Buu gave her a challenge every now and then. In exchange for taking him along for ice-cream, Mr. Buu would actually give her a real workout and not tell her father. She knew her father would never approve of her training to become a Super Saiyajin.

Perhaps, if she were able to become a Super Saiyajin, her grandpa Goku would finally come back.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Trunks could see Goten flying in the distance. He knew he had always been the better flyer but he had never guessed to gain on him this fast. He sided with him and greeted him with a smile. Goten looked at his best friend, smiled and augmented his speed tremendously, following the signal of the Dragon Radar his friend had given back to him earlier.

Although slightly surprised by his friend's sudden speed without having fired up to Super Saiyajin, Trunks followed him and they approached the location of the next dragon ball in no time.

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Bulma smiled, leaning back from her desk, enjoying a cup of coffee. It had been long since Trunks had actually been passionate about anything. It looked like she had been wrong about him and Goten. She had thought they simply differed too much to survive puberty as friends but they had and it seemed their friendship was all that really mattered to her son. Part of her was pleased by just that but she also feared this very passion made Trunks inadequate as president of Capsule Corporation. Aside this she feared she had given him too much responsibility at too young an age. Had she been right to make him president of Capsule Corporation being barely twenty-one years old? She suspected it hadn't been such a good idea after all and decided to cut her son some slack. It was good for him to be away from the company for a while and even though she heartily loved the time off she could spend with Vejiita it seemed Vejiita, too, was changing more than she had bargained for. Vejiita was growing a moustache. Why, she hadn't the slightest clue. She liked the new haircut she'd forced him into but a moustache was too much. It made him look old. She blinked, considering just that. She had complained to Vejiita on many occasions how she was the only one growing old, how he maintained his looks as if it were nothing and she was forced to spend a month's wages on crèmes and potions alone. Had he grown a moustache just to make her happy? A shiver went through her at that realization. Vejiita really had changed that much.

She shook her head, smiling. She wanted to take another sip from her coffee when she almost fell backwards, startled by Vejiita barging into her office.

"Woman," he told her and swept her off her feet.

She stared at him with big blue eyes, slightly befuddled. "Vejiita, what are you—?"

"Shut up, woman," he ordered. "The brat's out with Kakarotto's spawn. Bura's with the old folks."

Hmm, that was true. Trunks was fetching the dragon balls with Goten so only Kami knew when he was coming back – and it wasn't going to be soon. Bura was with her parents. Vejiita had a fondness of calling them old. In truth, to Vejiita someone was actually old or a brat. He had such a way with words. Bulma giggled. Vejiita frowned at her irritably, which made her giggle even louder.

Somewhat annoyed by the woman's titter the Saiyajin pretended to drop her. Bulma let out a shriek, her arms flying around the man's neck. He smirked. His dark eyes looked into hers without any dissatisfaction, without judgment. Kami, how she loved that stare.

"Set?" he asked.

"You bet."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Tenshinhan was positively fuming as he stormed out of his old cabin. Chaozu followed, trying to calm him down.

"Tien, Tien!" he called, following his friend who took to the sky almost immediately. "When Buu destroyed the Earth the Nameckian Dragon Balls were used to wish back only those that were not completely evil, remember Tien? How could that android ever be wished back if he were evil?"

Chaozu didn't understand Tien's sudden anger. So the jinzouningen wasn't the perfect son-in-law it didn't justify such anger from Tenshinhan. Tien had defended Juunana-gou, fought alongside him to keep Cell from absorbing the androids. Seventeen was programmed a bad guy but deep down wasn't all that rotten. Juunan-gou had proven himself, that much was for sure. How else could he've been wished back by the Nameckian Dragon Balls?

"That's not it, Chaozu. I know that android isn't evil. But he remains just what he is; a machine isn't something I'd want my daughter to hang out with much less…" He closed his eyes, knitting his brow in anger. "Much less…"

"Shouldn't we look for him, then?" Chaozu propositioned, not feeling much at ease if he'd allow Tien to finish that sentence.

"He'll come to us, I'm sure. I'm not going to fetch him. I don't care what Lunch says. I'm not taking that… that… robot anywhere near my daughter. No matter if he's good _or_ evil!"

Tenshinhan didn't know why he was screaming so loud. He didn't understand his anger, couldn't really explain it. He knew he didn't hate the androids. They had since long buried the hatchet. But why was he so angry? Why didn't he want him near his daughter? Why couldn't he bear the thought of his little girl and that _jinzouningen_ living together? It drove him absolutely mad. Did all fathers have to go through this!

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For a very long time, both Trunks and Goten were convinced to find the next dragon ball somewhere in the ocean but as they got closer to the dragon ball's exact location, a small archipelago of tropical islands appeared and it was obvious the dragon ball was to be found on one of the islands. It was clear Trunks wasn't going to have to use his mother's latest craft just yet.

They landed on the beach, and Goten adjusted the Dragon Radar's scale.

"It must be somewhere further in the inlands," the Son said, pointing in the direction of a steep, tree covered mountain at the centre of the island.

The thickness of the forest wasn't the biggest bother Goten and Trunks had to work their way around. Not by far, actually. The bugs that danced around the many hot cesspools and tree trunks were not only the size of small rodents but were slowly driving them nuts.

"I don't suppose you have a bug-spray hidden in one of your capsules, eh?" Goten asked his friend, trying to take down bugs by waving his arms around.

"Don't think so," Trunks said. He halted, pondering. "Wait, I do actually!"

Goten also stopped, and turned to look at the lavender haired boy. "You do?"

Trunks smiled. He took his capsule case, looked at the different numbers for a little while, then got out number nine, activating it. He tossed it into the open spot to his left. The capsule popped open and a small landrover appeared, and almost fully disappeared again, sinking away in the muddy pool it had been tossed onto.

"Trunks, you moron!" Goten barked at his friend.

Trunks looked a little crushed, honestly agreeing with the Son that this hadn't exactly been a very smart move. He pondered what his mother would say had she been in his shoes and he had to console himself with the thought his mother would use her beauty as an excuse. He couldn't say he had anything better to say himself.

"When you're as good-looking as I am, you're allowed to make mistakes?" the lavender haired boy said, somehow not entirely convinced.

Goten rolled his eyes, not even bothering to stay angry. "Is that it?" he told Trunks frivolously. "I don't suppose you wanna go in and fetch it?"

His best friend made a sickened face. "And get my clothes all dirty?"

Goten snorted. He gestured at Trunks' garments. "Look at them. It's not like it can get much worse."

Looking down to his mud-stained shirt and pants Trunks knew he had to agree with the Son. Still, he wasn't really planning to dive in some muddy pool voluntarily.

Goten moaned and threw up his arms in defeat. "Have it your way. I'll pull it out." The black-haired demi-Saiyajin had to admit it hadn't really been a smart move of him either, to discuss who was going to pull out a sinking vehicle. By now it had almost wholly vanished in the mud. He scratched his head, swatted a bug in the back of his neck and flew over to the pool.

Grabbing the front pulley of the landrover, Goten tried to drag out the vehicle when it started moving by itself! As it started moving, the wheels turned, throwing mud all over Goten's face.

Trunks laughed sheepishly, apologizing like a complete dope. "Sorry, sorry!" He waved his hands. "I'd almost forgotten my watch is also a remote control! Now that I think of it, it's a packing gun, too! Kinda funny, huh?" He laughed again, making the landrover shift into a hovercraft, manoeuvring it out of the pool.

Goten glared, and landed next to his friend. He rubbed the mud out of his face, putting a filthy hand in Trunks' face teasingly.

"I forgive you," he said, snickering. He made a peace sign, and entered the hovercraft. "Let's get going."

Trunks blinked, his face covered with mud in the shape of a hand. He sighed, figuring it'd at the very least be good for his complexion. He hadn't had a facial in almost a week anyway.

"_Hayaku_!" Goten urged. "Let's go. Let's go! And where's that bug-spray you were talking about?"

Trunks entered, sitting behind the steering wheel. He cleaned his face with a handkerchief and pushed a button. "Right there." The outside of the car was engulfed in a yellowish mist and all the nearby bugs dropped right out of the sky. Trunks smiled widely, looking at Goten.

"About time," Goten complained. "Given the stories of Cell, that bug was nothing compared to these monsters." He pushed his friend gently, goofing around. Trunks grinned, but still worried for Goten. He was just too carefree to his liking. No one could be this carefree after the death of a friend, not even Goten.

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Lunch sighed, her chin leaning on her hand. She was slowly getting used to the bleeping sound of the heart-lung machine. She glanced at Juunana-gou who hadn't moved all this time. She got up, and walked to the door.

"I'm gonna get some coffee," she said. "You want some coffee, too, Juu-san?"

Juunana-gou shook his head. "No thanks."

"Would you like some tea instead?" the blue-haired woman suggested.

"No thanks," Juunana-gou replied in the same bleak tone of voice.

"Want me to get you anything else, Juu-san?"

"No thanks."

Lunch blinked, not really understanding how he didn't want anything when they had been cooped up in this room for two and a half hours at the very least. She shrugged, and exited. "I'll be right back."

Juunana-gou took a step in the direction of the bed but immediately jumped back when the door opened again and Lunch peered in.

"Ah, just checking, Juu-san. Want me to fetch you a snack? I hear they have really great rice flans in the hospital's cafeteria!"

Juunana-gou tried to hide his irritation, and made a face. "No thanks," he said coyly.

"Okay," Lunch said, showing him a peace sign. "Don't mind if I fetch one myself, eh? Keep an eye on Ziyuu-chan for me?" She blew him a kiss and closed the door behind her. In his turn the android sighed, a little uptight.

Looking left and right, he walked to the bed again looking at Ziyuu, whose chest rose and fell at the rhythm of the machines she was wired on. He didn't like those machines but figured it'd be a bad idea removing them.

He scrutinized her, like he had so often when she was asleep. This time was different. She didn't look peaceful at all, she looked pained. She looked like hell. He leaned over the high edge of the bed, blowing his raven black hair out of his face, still looking at her.

"Blue," he said softly. "I warned you a thousand times, didn't I? I'm a machine. If I wanted to I could load myself with methylated spirit and not feel any different. As for you, you're human. You shouldn't have forgotten that, Blue." He walked closer to her and sat by her on the bedside, examining her bruised face. She looked even more fragile than she usually did. He didn't like it.

"I promised I'd look out for you," he told her in a stern voice. "I didn't." He fell silent for a little while, brushing her face clear of blue locks that were clinging to her feverish cheeks. Her skin felt warm, a sensation the android had always liked as it made her so much more alive than he was. "I didn't think I'd give a damn, to be honest," the android admitted. "But I do. It sucks, you know?"

He didn't notice when Lunch stood in the doorway, holding a rice flan in one hand. She didn't enter, simply stood, watching the scene unfolding before her. She had always known Seventeen loved her daughter but she had never thought he actually cared so much.

"I could've stopped you from driving off but I didn't think much of it. You'd done it before without almost killing yourself. I guess I didn't think you were so weak." The android sighed, sitting back. He folded his arms. "Will you wake up already? It's not funny."

Tien had appeared in the doorway and he wasn't exactly pleased to see the android sitting at his daughter's bed, producing one lie after the other.

"You know what's funny?" Tenshinhan said.

Juunana-gou looked up but didn't move, his eyes simply slid to were Tien stood.

"You sitting on that bed, that's funny," Tenshinhan continued.

Juunana-gou blinked slowly. "Is it? I don't find any humour in it at all. You might want to fill me in on what's so funny," he responded, standing from the bed. His eyes shifted back to Ziyuu for a moment, and the android seemed to calculate his options.

"Calm down, Tien," Lunch said, putting a hand on Tenshinhan's arm. The man ignored her plea and walked inside the chamber, up close to Seventeen.

"I want you to leave," Tenshinhan said to him, his face near his.

Juunana-gou blinked, his eyes cool. There was a moment of silence between them that even Lunch found unbearable.

"Why?" Juunana-gou eventually spoke.

"Because you're out of place, android. You allowed her to drive in her state. You let her go. And because you let her go you haven't the right to be here. Let her go completely, Seventeen. You don't belong."

In all honesty, the android had not expected Tenshinhan to be this intolerant. He had actually at first figured it would take more difficulty in persuading Ziyuu's mother rather than her father but now he finally understood why he was never home when Ziyuu was a kid. He was the one who didn't belong. He was the one who had let her go. But Juunana-gou wasn't going to argue with this man. He didn't really belong, either. He glanced at Ziyuu, and exchanged a solemn look with Lunch as he walked out, walking past her, walking into the sterile, white hallway.

Lunch knew Juunana-gou wasn't planning to come back. She turned back to Tenshinhan, wiggled her nose and sneezed. This wasn't over. Not by far.

"You…" she started, her green eyes blinded by utter frenzy, seeing only the triclops man before her. The man who had just chased off the one person who could bring back her daughter. This was not over.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"We'd better set up camp," Trunks said. "It's getting late."

Trunks could see the hesitance and desperation in his friend's eyes. He hadn't seen it since the start of their journey. He put a hand on his shoulder. Goten lowered his eyes. What Trunks didn't know was that the Son was really fighting his tears at that moment. It felt good to know his best friend would be there for him to drag him through everything and he was heartily grateful for it, too. When he looked up again he smiled.

"I'll find us a good spot," he told his friend. "I don't want our capsule house vanishing in some cesspool."

"Very funny," Trunks muttered.

"It's true." He laughed, and Trunks soon laughed with him. None of them noticed they were being spied on by some shadowy character from behind some bushes who had a tattoo of a seven star ball on the inside of his hand with which he wiped his mouth, smirking in an unprepossessing way.

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Author's Note: What's evil Lunch planning to do with her idiot husband? Is she going to pump him with led? Or is she just going to slap him silly? And who's the shady character spying on Trunks and Goten?

Find out in the next instalment!

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	35. Tale 32 The Sect of Seven Stars 2

**BOOK IV**  
**"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Thirty Two---Sect of Seven Stars part two---**  
Rating: M**

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Rated M: violence. Violence, you heard me. Yes. I wouldn't call it M but you know the deal when I underrate it. I wouldn't want to shock you with gory deaths. Ooh, did I just spoil something? Ha, not at all.

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Two days had passed since Seventeen and Tenshinhan's not so pleasant encounter. Although evil Lunch was often considered the less naïve but more reckless version of her blue-haired counterpart, evil Lunch had had enough common sense to not start a shoot out in a hospital. Although part of her wanted to slap Tien silly, another part of her realized it wouldn't be a good idea. Even evil Lunch knew the three-eyed man was a lot stronger than she was. She didn't want to upset him any further. She didn't want to forbid him seeing his daughter for the time being. And so she'd done the one thing she knew could really hurt him at that very moment. She told him to go apologize to Juunana-gou. Now, you'd think such obviously wouldn't be a very smart move but evil Lunch could care less what you think. Of course, Tenshinhan had refused but evil Lunch had always had her way of convincing people, goodways or badways. Wait, it's badways, of course.

Ziyuu hadn't woken up the entire time. She hadn't even so much as moved her eyelids. The only movement was the constant rising and falling of her chest, induced by the one machine that was keeping her alive right now. There was another machine that could save her life, a machine that could wake her up again, a machine _who_ was missing right now.

Lunch had refused to believe Tien when he had told her he couldn't find Seventeen. Well, she hadn't believed him at first. Because Lunch may be a tad stubborn, she wasn't a moron. She soon realized Tenshinhan was telling the truth. And why shouldn't he? Seventeen was gone. And it was all their fault. Sure, Tien had been the one who'd upset him but she had had the responsibility in telling her husband Ziyuu's boyfriend was actually Juunana-gou. She sighed, and took a sip from her herbal tea, setting it back down on the bedside table. She looked at her daughter. She really didn't know what to do. She was at a loss, her green eyes dark and fixed on nowhere.

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For two days, Trunks and Goten had ploughed through the jungle, trying to find that stupid dragon ball. Trunks was slowly beginning to worry finding all seven dragon balls might take more time than he'd bargained for. He wasn't sure he was up for it. He hadn't trained in a long time, he wasn't used to the jungle's foul climate, and he'd never thought the jungle was this vast and impenetrable. He wiped sweat from his brow. The humidity was slowly killing him, he was sure of it.

"Tell me again," Trunks started. "Why are we crossing this hellhole on foot?"

Goten laughed. "Trunks, where's your sense of adventure!"

Trunks let his hands hang to the sides of his body, and groaned. "I must've misplaced it somewhere, about two days ago."

Again, Goten laughed and he turned to look at his friend. "Just two days? You sure?"

His lavender haired friend was about to bristle a protest when a rain of darts showered them completely by surprise.

Diving for safety, both Trunks and Goten were hit multiple times. Angrily, Goten pulled out any darts he could find and shouted at his friend, both pinned to the muddy surface.

"What the hell are these!" he screamed.

Trunks smelled one of the darts, tasted the tip of it and spit it back out. He looked at the Son worryingly. "Poison," he said, "Poisoned darts." He felt queasy all of the sudden, overwhelmed by a sense of lethargy he had never felt before. In his best friend's weary stare he found a mirror of feelings just before he passed out. Goten struggled to stay awake a little while longer, tried to get up when his backside was completely mangled by a new shower of darts and he, too, passed out.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

It had been quite some time since Aera and Yamuna Tacra had crash-landed on the bottle-green planet of felines and ugly pink lumps. Ahem. Alright, alright. It had been quite some time since Aera, Yamuna Tacra and our jolly good stuffed friend Murass had crash-landed. There, better? Good. Anyway. Yamuna Tacra had continued to pick fights with the dark-haired Dace but it was obvious she was slowly getting the upper hand in their constant battles. It seemed the Saiyajin girl was getting used to the heavy gravitation of their temporary home. But there were obviously still a lot of things that needed getting used to, not only for the carmine haired Saiyajin or Aera for that matter.

"So, why aren't we leaving yet?" Yamuna Tacra asked as she entered the treehouse. "I've grown tired of this shithole. And I've gotten used to the gravity by now so there's no challenge in that, either."

Aera looked at the woman. She had been meditating, trying to contact Murass. Murass hadn't spoken to her in a very long time and frankly, it worried her. The only message she had gotten from the Highest lately was that He would be leaving for a little while. He didn't even tell her where He'd gone. She didn't like the feel of it.

"We're not going anywhere," Aera said, focusing on the woman in the doorway again.

"And why's that?" Yamuna Tacra wondered, folding her arms arrogantly.

"The main control system of our spaceship is broken. I'm not a technician so there's no way I can fix it."

Yamuna Tacra made a shocked face and she let her arms hang, staring. "You mean, we're stuck here!"

"How many times do I have to tell you to keep the noise down?" Dace commented as he appeared in the doorway.

Both Yamuna Tacra and Aera looked at him. The carmine haired Saiyajin knit her brow, irritated.

"Mind your own business, jerk," she snapped.

Dace smiled, walking on. "Jovial as ever," he commented.

Irritated, Yamuna Tacra turned to look at Aera, who was laughing over the cat's remark.

"What's so damn funny?" the Saiyajin sneered. "So you're saying we're stuck here," she continued, changing the subject.

"For the time being, yes. There's nothing we can do until the Highest—"

"Leave your stuffed doll out of this!" Yamuna barked. "Good thing you left him in the spaceship. Good riddance."

"The Highest of All can't be left out of anything, Yamuna Tacra. I know why you—"

"Stuff it, Healer. I'm not interested in your nonsense. Sometimes I question your intellect. Sometimes I even question your sanity…" The warrior narrowed her eyes. "Go play with someone else's emotions. I don't care." She turned, leaving in a firm stride, then jumped out of the tree, having gotten used to the height and adjusting her chi to land smoothly. It seemed that good for nothing Healer was trying to creep in her mind again. It was likely the one thing that irritated her most about that girl, more than that stuffed doll of hers. Feh, she didn't care about that stupid wench. She didn't care at all.

"But you do care," Aera disputed quietly. "And that's exactly the point."

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Trunks rubbed his face, his hair clinging to his face. He felt hot and he had a hard time breathing. He opened his eyes, frowning and blinking in hopes of being able to see. When his eyesight adjusted he noticed he had no idea where he was. He was in a straw hut of some sorts and he was tied down! He frowned and noticed Goten was next to him, still asleep. What had happened? He wiggled himself out of the ropes he'd been tied up with and was for once very happy to be a half-Saiyajin. An average human would never have been able to get lose like that. He sat up and untied his friend, trying to wake him up. He didn't remember much, except being attacked by unseen foes shooting poison darts at them. Goten slowly opened his eyes and sat up also.

"What happened?" the Son wondered.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The sun was so bright today its rays were almost able to reach the bottom of the gorge in which centre the tree covered village was situated. Aera let her feet dangle over the edge of the wooden planks which made up for one of many footpaths from one treehouse to another. She could use a little sunshine, actually. She wasn't too happy to be here right now. She had no idea why she was here, nor how much longer Murass was planning to keep her in the dark like this.

Ever so carefully, a small red bug was approaching Aera from the footpath it was trying to cross. It halted by the girl's knee and looked up to her.

"Ooh been a while, hasn't it lovely love?" it spoke.

Aera blinked and looked about her confusedly.

"Down here, love."

Following Murass' little clue, Aera noticed the tiny insect. She smiled. "Boy, You sure look small today, Murass-sama," she said.

"Big or small, it's the thought that counts, love."

"Your thought or my thought?" Aera wondered.

"Is there any difference? I would say something mean about your Saiyajin companion right about now… but I don't quite feel like it… right about now," it said.

"Oh? Why not?"

The bug laughed. "Ooh! Good one. You know love, you'd never strike me as such a mean little love. Ha hahahaha ahahaha haha." It coughed. "Enough natter, though. Let's chat."

The girl frowned, not understanding what that meant.

"My, you sure look different through these ommatid eyes. Woa. Woa… woa." It trailed off. "Now, what I was actually here for is the following…"

The bug was crushed under a Saiyajin foot. Aera stared, looked up in shock to meet with a Saiyajin smirk. "I hate bugs," Yamuna Tacra commented. Before Aera was given a chance to say anything, the Saiyajin was distracted by Dace moving in between trees, whisking his sword back and forth. "Ha. Time to teach that moron a lesson," Yamuna snickered and jumped to a different tree, leaving Aera somewhat stunned.

"Where was I?" Murass continued. Aera stared at the tiny, squashed bug, which was more of a stain than anything else. Murass laughed.

"Up here, love," the Highest said. A different red bug had crawled down from the tree trunk, fixed on a branch, upside down. "Anyway, as I was saying…"

Aera was surprised Murass didn't even so much as hint about Yamuna's stupidity or rudeness or anything of the like. It worried her. Did this mean trouble?

"I'm going away for a little while longer. Something big's coming up in the next two years or so. You'll be all right out here, I'm sure. I'll at the very least try to see to that, love. Keep an eye on that nitwit companion of yours, will you? Stick with her, no matter what, for better or worse, in good times and in bad, yadda yadda. And don't be too shocked over things that might be inevitable or confusing things that might pop up along the way. I promise I'll get you out of here as soon as I have a little less on that all-knowing mind of mine. Some people really know how to draw a big mess, you know? And who's supposed to clean it all up? Of course, it's me. It's always like that. But I'm no cleaning lady, love. Do I look like one? I'll pull back for a while so I can charge myself for what is to come. It's not funny. Dear me, I wish it were. Even just a little. Ooh, I know… I know! Grand touring all over the place! The fun! The fun!"

"What? What do You mean, Murass-sama? What're You talking about! What does this mean!" She bit her lip. The bug simply wiggled its antennae and that was pretty much it. Murass had already gone.

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A short, somewhat sluggish guard pricked up his ears as he heard the hint of voices coming from the captives' hut. He wasn't too sure about it but decided to have a look anyway, and he peered inside through one of the gaps in the hut's wooden wall. He blinked, unable to see a thing. When he looked closer he was startled and looked a second time, only to be startled more.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The morning was quite cold and rain still hung in the sky at the break of day. The sun was barely up but Videl was already up and going. Gohan was at a conference to discuss the outcome of a research project he'd been working on the past four years. She didn't really mind. Gohan had been way too uptight for his own good the last couple days and Videl was honestly relieved to be rid of him for just a little while. She loved Gohan dearly but right now he was driving her nuts. He hadn't been intimate with her in a long time and to make matters worse he spent more time in the library and wherever else he took his research than he was at home. Something was up, Videl knew but she was too fractious over the fact Gohan ignored _her_ problems. She had a hard time handling Gohan's wish for another baby and to make matters worse he had really touched a nerve when he had not reacted the way she'd hoped when she told him she wanted to go back to work, get a job. She figured Pan-chan was old enough to be either left alone or left with a baby-sit during short periods a day, until Videl or Gohan would get back from work but Gohan didn't want anything to do with it. It was ridiculous!

She moved to the back of the house to get some laundry done. She sighed, not wanting to brood like this.

She had never told Gohan her pregnancy hadn't been an easy time. She had never told him she'd suffered from a severe baby blues after Pan was born. It hadn't been some blues you could play down just like that. This had been sincere unhappiness, driving her up the walls. ChiChi had told her she'd just need to get used to the baby, no big deal. _No big deal_, Videl thought angrily. And now Gohan wanted her to have another baby. She couldn't go through this a second time! She never wanted to feel like that ever again! It pained her. It had pained her to tell Gohan she didn't want another child. He thought it was her rejecting him. He had blown this deal way out of proportion. It angered her. It frustrated her. She hadn't deserved this!

"_Ohayo, Kaa-chan_."

Instantly, Videl woke from her thoughts and she turned to greet her daughter. "Morning, Pan-chan," she said. "Why are you still in your pyjamas? You need to be in school in fifteen minutes and you haven't even had breakfast yet!"

Pan half-smiled. "Well… you haven't cooked any breakfast so I didn't wake up in time. You know your cooking always gets me out of bed."

Videl frowned, containing all the pent up frustration she'd been holding back for so long, which had her brooding in the first place. She couldn't do it. "I'm not your personal chef. And you have an alarm clock. Use it. Now put on your uniform and get to school."

"But Kaa-chan—" Pan started to protest.

"Now!" Videl screamed.

Pan made a face, completely taken by surprise. Her mother never yelled at her. "Geez, mom!" she complained. "There's no need to yell. I'm going." She turned around and rolled her eyes, although she was very suspicious of where all that came from. It wasn't her business. Besides, she had her own issues to deal with. Her mother probably missed dad or something. Dende, what the hell was her problem anyway?

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Goten looked through one of the gaps in the hut's wall to see where they were in the first place. He frowned, then looked again. He jumped backwards when he realized he was looking at somebody else's eye.

He turned to his friend who sat up, wondering what the Son had seen.

"Well?" he enquired.

"Not to alarm you or anything," Goten said, "But I'm afraid we've just been caught peeking outside. They're probably gonna check on us right about—"

The hut's heavy wooden door opened and about half a dozen islanders stood in the doorway, pointy weapons ready to strike. "Whut's goin'on in heyre!" the fat one in front demanded.

"—now," Goten said, finishing his sentence.

"Now?" Trunks asked, sending a meaningful look to his friend.

Goten smirked. "Sure, why not?"

"Oi, whut're you non believers doin' untied and shit?" the same man requested.

Goten and Trunks burst right through one of the hut's heavy walls before the man was able to say anything else.

"Non belieevers escapin'! Non belieevers escapin' oll over thu playce!"

Goten and Trunks hand't laughed like this in a long time until they learned it hadn't been such a good idea, surrounded by no less than fifty reed blowing warriors, their reeds locked and loaded with poison darts.

Goten and Trunks stood back to back.

"Any other great ideas?" Goten asked.

Trunks smiled. "Sure. This time let's just take off to the sky, eh?"

Goten smirked. "Ah. Of course."

Discussing their plans hadn't been such a great idea, that much was certain the moment a dart hit Goten in his neckline and another hit Trunks in his thigh.

_Strong poison_, Trunks could discern in the blur of thoughts that overwhelmed him as his face neared the ground. He remembered looking for Goten but being unable to discern where he was, seeing only a haze of shapes, not knowing where one began and the next ended. Maybe it was because the first time they'd been hit by poisoned darts had been about a week ago and they hadn't eaten since then, maybe it really was because the poison was so strong, neither Trunks nor Goten could discern because either they didn't know or their minds simply refused to reconnect.

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Casually, Yamuna Tacra jumped from tree to tree until she had reached the treehouse where the scent of food originated from. She smirked, entering.

"Starting without me, are you?" she said, expecting to find a handful of people grovelling at her feet for forgiveness of being so rude to start without her. When only Dace and Aera looked up she turned to walk away again. She'd kill some beast in order to lull her hunger. If none of these weaklings bothered to be intimidated by her simply because she'd been acting civil these past weeks, she'd show them the meaning of civil.

Dace stood, running after her. Aera decided not to go after either of them and sat back down.

"Wait up!" the boy called. He left his sword back in the treehouse, not bothering to go back and fetch it.

Trying to cover her anger, Yamuna Tacra turned casually. She didn't say anything, just stared.

"Look," Dace began, in an attempt to explain. "In our culture it's an insult to be late. It's as if you don't acknowledge the elder's supremacy by coming late for the meal she has sanctified."

Yamuna Tacra bit back her laughter, jumping to another tree. "I don't acknowledge that weakling's superiority but I was late because of something else entirely. I don't care for your petty customs."

Dace jumped after her, his expression incensed. "Well I do. And I don't care why you were late. If you plan to join our meals ever again I expect you to be on time."

The Saiyajin made a disinterested face, pulling herself up to a higher branch. Without effort, Dace followed her by one agile leap, standing in front of her again.

"No one tells me what to do," Yamuna Tacra spoke.

"I'm not telling you what to do. I'm telling you of our customs. You have Aera to tell you what to do."

Yamuna narrowed her eyes. "You're out of your mind. That Healer means nothing to me."

She knew he was right, which angered her even more. She let her Syrtan blades spring from her hands and she readied to strike. "Get lost, brat."

Dace in turn drew the dragger he kept on his belt. He now regretted not having his sword. "No one tells me what to do either," he snapped at her.

In reply to the feline's aggressive manoeuvre, Yamuna Tacra threw her head back, laughing. "You must be joking," she said. Her face turned serious again and she moved into a defensive stance, wondering if the cat were foolish enough to attack.

"I've defeated you before," Dace stated, "I sure as hell can do it again."

Again, Yamuna Tacra wanted to laugh but for some reason didn't find the boy's words very entertaining. She ground her teeth. In one quick motion she leaped over him, ripping apart the bandana he'd been wearing to keep his hair out of his eyes since the day she'd first seen him. She smirked as the bandana fluttered to the ground, far below.

"Next time, I'll take your head with it," the Saiyajin commented boldly.

The cat turned to look at her, his eyes unfocused. She frowned at him, then noticed smoke rising from his chest, where a hole the size of a fist indicated he'd been shot.

He collapsed against her and the woman couldn't help but stare for a moment, wondering what had caused this.

At that point, other felines residing in the trees noticed what was going on, and an alarm horn was heard, drawing the warriors outside and everyone else to the secluded treehouses.

Lasers originating from handguns and chi attacks scattered everywhere across the woodland, blasting trees and felines, blasting everything within reach. They had come, the Crothians had come.

Yamuna Tacra turned in a flash and cried out to catch Aera's attention, who was standing in the doorway of one of the treehouses.

"Healer!" she yelled. "Get over here!"

She didn't waste anymore time and carefully set the boy down. He was still breathing, she noticed but didn't bother to check on him further. This wasn't her department; combat was.

She somersaulted to land on the forest ground. As she landed, her hand-blades ripped open a Crothian's chest and another's face. She lashed open another Crothian's big belly using the sword Dace had given to her weeks ago. She ripped open another one, shredding his throat, then kicked him out of her way. She leaped and made a forward roll, avoiding to be hit by the lasers fired at her. She turned quickly, driving the sword's tip into a Crothian's side and pulling it out again through his stomach. At this point, Aera landed by her side, holding a sword. The Saiyajin glared at the girl.

"Get out of the way. You're not even holding that blade the right way. Go heal or something!"

Aera smiled at the girl. "I've healed your friend, now it's my turn to kick some butt."

Yamuna Tacra avoided a laser, then chopped off a Crothian's head, the blood squirting into her eyes. She shook her head violently, then proceeded to lash open another enemy.

"Healer!" she called, trying to get the girl's attention. She noticed the pale-haired girl had difficulty holding off a Crothian. It seemed like the Healer wasn't fighting at all. It seemed she didn't want to kill them.

As the Saiyajin approached she put the tip of her sword into the Crothian's face, blinding him. At that point, she pulled back the blade and drove it in his chest. Aera simply stood, staring.

Yamuna Tacra in turn focused on other enemies again, killing them off at a fast rate.

Aera yelped suddenly, and Yamuna Tacra focused her attention back to the Healer. One of the Crothian filths had grabbed her by her neck, holding a gun against the girl's temple. Yamuna Tacra shook her head, and tossed her sword, which landed in the Crothian's forehead.

"Duck!" she cried out to the pale-haired girl. At that, the Crothian fired his laser in shock to the blade that had been driven into his skull. The laser fired randomly, destroying at least four other enemies.

Yamuna Tacra used her chi to uplift her and she made a salto to land by the Healer's feet.

"Now get the Hell out of here. You're no fighter," she said firmly.

As she was waiting for Aera to answer, the woman noticed one of the enemies was charging up and she wondered what he was planning to do as he tossed away his weapon.

Aera still looked at her, then nodded.

"Suit it yourself. You will need my help. Perhaps not today but you will need it. And you will have to admit you were wrong," Aera said.

Yamuna Tacra turned to focus on the Crothian that was charging his energy. She wasn't really listening. She pulled the sword from the dead man's head and breathed deeply.

"Wrong about what?" the Saiyajin spoke absent-mindedly.

She didn't even hear Aera's answer as the attacking pink lump suddenly uplifted himself using his chi, firing an energyball straight for Yamuna Tacra's face. The ball's speed was astounding, and she could barely avoid it.

As she looked up again, her teeth bared, another blast sizzled her way, hitting her full on. She didn't have time to do anything and through the billowing smoke that was rising from the blasts this enemy fired at her, she could hear him laughing.

This one was stronger. This one was so much stronger than any of them. This one had more control of his chi than any creature Yamuna Tacra had ever been confronted with. Another blast hit her and she could hardly breathe. She jumped up, readying herself to retaliate. She'd teach that asshole not to mess with her!

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The hymn was soothing and ominous at the same time. Dressed in palm-leaf skirts, and feathery headgear, both men and women chanted, moving as if spellbound to the mysterious hymn. All had their hands up in the sky, showing their dragon ball like tattoos. Trunks wiggled his nose, barely able to open his eyes. He hadn't had a hangover like this since he was seventeen and had tried his first shot – okay, shots – of tequila. He wanted to rub his face but felt weakened, unable to move and he was hardly able to watch what happened before his tired eyes.

He got a shot of adrenaline when he noticed where he was. He was inside a volcano! The volcano didn't seem very active right now but considering the heat it produced it wasn't dormant either. When he shifted his head back to where the crowd was moving he noticed something that caught his attention immediately. It was the Seven Star Dragon Ball! It was displayed on a crescent pedestal, glimmering brightly. What were these people up to anyway? He frowned, finding it hard to stay awake.

"Efflata, Lord of the Seven Stars, Master of Fire! We call out to yoo to bring os prosper'ty and successfool horvest! As a tooken of our eeppreciation we ooffer yoo a dooble sacreefice of non belieevers crossin' yoor land withoot bringin'ny oofferings."

The master of ceremonies, wearing the most feathery crown of them all, gestured to Goten and Trunks but Trunks could hardly tell what was going on. Goten was sound asleep, knocked out by the poison that had paralysed his body.

"Seven Stars… fire… non believers… offerings… fire… lots of fire." Trunks was trying hard to stay awake, trying harder to understand what was going on.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Author's Note: Ack, that still didn't get you anywhere? Yes, I'm mean aren't I? It's just like one of those Dragon Ball episodes which drives you nuts and wishes it were tomorrow so you could find out what the hell was going on. Sorry bout that.

Find out in the next instalment if Goten and Trunks are going to be cooked alive, boiled or just chopped to pieces to please a dragon ball. What a strange world we live in. Next is tale 33 The Sect of Seven Stars part three! Which will conclude things. Whether that means it's the end of Trunks and Goten or whether they manage to get their hands on the seven star dragon ball is beyond me. Well, not really. But you get the idea.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x


	36. Tale 33 The Sect of Seven Stars 3

**BOOK IV**  
**"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Thirty Three---Sect of Seven Stars part three---**  
Rating: T**

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Pan wasn't home-tutored like her father had been. No, Pan was to attend public schools because her mother thought it would be good for her character. Pan however, had a hard time dealing with the special treatment classmates gave her. Teachers had been given strict orders as to treating her just like all the other students but the same could not be said of the students. Everybody knew she was the daughter of the great champion of the world, Mr. Satan. And they also knew her other grandfather was a gifted fighter as well. They looked into her background as if it would make her a different person. Her great-grandfather being the legendary Gyu Mao, the Ox King. What difference did it make?

Pan learned at a young age that it made all the difference in the world. Her mother had been her own person despite Mr. Satan's fame. Videl had had her own things to strive to. The same could not be said of Pan, for she was still too young to be her own person. At this age, she was the product of her environment, the product of what people made of her.

Most people were either intimidated by her or hung out with her for the sake of being with a celebrity, or at least granddaughter of a celebrity. But Pan was still too young to realize the counterfeit of virtually everybody involved in her life, save the family that loved and cared for her unconditionally.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Piccolo continued a life in solitude, occasionally paying a visit to the Lord Kami, well, the current God anyway. Dende was growing taller by the years. And, much to Piccolo's bother, the young Nameckuseijin was growing wiser and cleverer at at least the same rate. Dende knew Piccolo still desired to own a piece of the world, but neither of them spoke of it.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Yamuna Tacra had her fists balled tightly and wiped blood from her mouth with the back of her clenched hand. She didn't remember anyone with a control over his chi quite like this. She had to admit not even she was able to fly like that, or fire balls with such swift array.

As she stood in a fighting stance he suddenly burst forward, his feet off the ground, shooting forward like pouring rain. He was fast, especially for such a fat bastard. She sneered, readying herself for collision.

He halted inches before her, his ugly face near hers. He was taller than she was, and probably twice as big as her. He smirked an unsightly smirk. She returned a smirk that was equally nasty but she should've known better as his eyes glittered and he headbutted her.

She refused. She refused to fall to the ground. She moved her feet, adjusting her weight. There was no way in hell he'd get her to the ground a second time. There was no way she'd be at his feet. There was no way. Her head spun and the impact of the confrontation singed through behind her eyeballs, smouldering in her brain.

Yamuna opened one eye. He hadn't moved the entire time, only smirked at her more. Feh! She'd get him for this! She'd even out the score. She'd level herself towards conquest, towards that fat bastard's gory death!

She threw a punch at him, which he effortlessly blocked, grabbing hold of her hand. He continued to smirk.

He was in for a treat all right. She glared at him, and threw in another punch, which he stopped just as easily. _Good_, she thought. _There's a good fatass._

She uplifted herself smoothly with her chi and he watched her. It was obvious what he was expecting, that fool of a beast. He'd seen her somersault over her enemies before. She knew it was exactly what he was expecting. She sneered and landed both of her feet in the Crothian's face, mustering all the strength she had left.

She screamed, laughing.

Her laughing died down when she realized the Crothian was not moving, simply cackled. The creature's mocking laughter grew, ringing across the entire forest, unsettling her to the point she felt something coil through her body, something she hadn't felt in a long time.

Was it fear?

He grabbed hold of her feet and hammered her into the forest's damp soil, laughing like a maniac. He then slammed her into a tree before letting go. She jumped up again, her eyes bawling rage. He in turn brought up his knee to the side of her body and she lurched out of the way. She wasn't fast enough when he countered another attack with both his arms, slamming her on both sides of her head, right above her ears.

Yamuna Tacra fell down. This time, she couldn't get up.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Bulma hadn't heard from her son in days. Now, Bulma was well aware that her son was no child but she worried nonetheless. Why hadn't he called? What was keeping them so long? She knew gathering all seven dragon balls could be a hassle but she'd had times the balls were not at all hard to collect. And she was human, Trunks was half Saiyajin, as was Goten. What on Chikyuu was keeping them?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Once Trunks woke up he soon realized things were more complicated than they looked. His Saiyajin body was affected by the poison still but he could feel his strength returning quickly. He glanced over his shoulder, to see Goten drooling happily. Trunks didn't think his friend would wake up anytime soon.

As he got up, his feet feeling wobbly, he did his best to charge up to Super Saiyajin. He noticed it was hard, harder than it usually was when his father forced him to train but he blamed the poison that clouded both his mind and muscles.

Goten slowly woke up, stretching lazily. Didn't the poison even so much as affect him!

"Goten!" he called to his friend. "Super Saiyajin!"

Trunks powered up, his hair a massive golden. Goten stared at him, then did the same, though not without trouble.

When Trunks turned to look at his enemies he noticed the men and women of the tribe who had gathered at the pit of the volcano had stopped trying to fight him, instead threw themselves humbly at his feet.

"Lord Efflata!" they exclaimed in chorus. "Be our guide, lord Efflata!"

Trunks had prepared for a fight and now the only fight he was getting was the one in his conscience. Should he exploit these people to get even? Or should he simply demand the Dragon Ball and be done with it?

Trunks was not given the opportunity to mull over his not so pure thoughts. When he turned to look at Goten the latter had already installed himself on a throne, surrounded by beautiful women and endless trays of meats, fruits and pastries.

Exasperated, Trunks made a face and fell to the ground.

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Aera knew she had no choice when the pink lump that had attacked Yamuna Tacra knocked the latter out without so much as putting up a fight. The upper hand the enemy was soon gaining was not something she had hoped for. Fighting was something she had not hoped for. But everywhere around her, felines were falling victim to the Crothian's malice and she refused to let them get away with it. When the pink lump that had knocked Yamuna out lashed out to kill the half-Saiyajin, Aera could no longer bear to watch and closed her eyes fiercely.

"Stop it!" she screamed.

Her body shivered, starting to radiate with the purest of lights. There was a flash, blinding everyone.

When the remaining felines who had tried so hard to keep the enemy at bay slowly opened their eyes, when Aera opened hers, the enemy was gone.

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Trunks got up. "Goten! We're not on some holiday!"

Goten looked at Trunks, his blue-green eyes staring innocently, his face stuffed with a banana cake. He stopped eating for a little while, mumbled something unintelligible and descended from his throne.

Both Super Saiyajin stood tall, especially compared to their humble, grovelling subjects.

"Give us the Seven Star Dragon Ball," Trunks demanded.

They bowed before Trunks, then turned towards Goten.

Goten stared. He swallowed his banana cake, and quickly ate the cake he still had in his hands. He smiled uncomfortably.

"Do you wish this also, other Lord Efflata?" the town elder asked in a dutiful voice.

Goten blinked. "Ehh… oh eh… Sure! What he said!"

A pretty girl from the tribe, probably the elder's granddaughter, handed them the Dragon Ball.

"Here you go, Lords Efflata!"

"Man!" Goten exclaimed, looking at the Dragon Ball. "I can't believe it was so easy!"

"Easy?" Trunks said, his Super Saiyajin aura flaring. "You call this _easy_!"

The volcano started to protest in a low, shattering rumble. It soon became clear the volcano had woken up.

Trunks and Goten stared at each other, then looked about them, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Now look what you've done!" the elder screamed at the girl. "You've angered one of the Lords Efflata!"

"Eek! I'm sorry grandfather!" She bowed, apologizing over and over.

The volcano continued to protest.

"Not to me!" the old man roared as he waved his arms about. "To the Lords Efflata!"

The girl turned towards Goten and Trunks, again bowing and bowing. "I'm sorry, Lord Efflata," she said while bowing to Goten. "I'm sorry Lord Efflata!" she said again, this time to Trunks. She continued to bow.

The volcano roared, louder this time.

"We have to get these people out of here!" Goten exclaimed.

Trunks stopped moving in a near panic for a little while, to look at his friend. "We have to get out of here!"

Lava started pouring in from the edges of the volcano's centre, and Goten could feel the ground shaking and starting to burst. Lava poured in under his feet and he danced trying not to burn his toes.

"Ow ow ow! That's hot!"

The Son recomposed himself. "Everyone!" he called to the panicking people. The crowd stopped running around, and began bowing to their 'Lord Efflata'.

"Everyone hold on to either me or Trunks!" he yelled. He pointed to his friend, who glared at him in protest.

The people blinked, burbling to each other as if they didn't understand.

"You mean Lord Efflata, Goten." Trunks corrected the Son who stared at him, dumbstruck. Only after a while, when his sneakers started to melt did he understand what Trunks meant.

"Oh!" he shouted with approval. "I get it!" He spread his arms. "Everyone! Hold on to Lord Efflata!"

Although the volcano did not stop from readying to erupt, the crowd was still confused. "Which one?" the town elder wondered.

Again, Goten stared.

"Either one!" Trunks filled in, reaching out his free hand, holding the dragon ball in his other. "Hurry!"

The lot of two-hundred-plus citizens held on to either Goten or Trunks and as the two Super Saiyajin uplifted themselves the volcano fully erupted, covering the whole of the island in molten rock and ashes.

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Ziyuu wasn't planning on waking up. The doctors had said there was no telling when or whether Ziyuu would ever wake up. What disturbed Lunch most was that her little girl would talk in her comatose state. And there was only one word she would utter the entire time.

Juunana. Seventeen.

The problem was, Juunana-gou was nowhere to be found. Likely, Juu was the only one able to wake up her daughter. She sighed dreamily. It sounded so much like the fairytale of the sleeping beauty. But Lunch had no idea if there would be a happy ending for Ziyuu. And worse, the evil witch was not some villain, the evil witch was her own man, Tenshin-han.

How had she ever gotten herself into this? Her dark eyes traced the dimly-lit room and she leaned in closer to her daughter. "Please wake up, Ziyuu-chan."

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Trunks, Goten and more than two hundred villagers moved in mid air and in a tight pack due west. Neither Trunks nor Goten had any idea how long it was going to take before they would reach land. Trunks remembered main land was about seven hundred miles away from the island with the Seven Star Dragon Ball on it. Would he be able to maintain being a Super Saiyajin that long? He couldn't move too fast, not with so many people trying to hold on to him, and he wasn't sure if those people would be able to hold on to him or Goten that long.

"Is everyone okay?" Goten asked. The Son could feel people's hands moving, trying to regain their grip. Now what was he gonna do? He turned towards Trunks, barely able to see him but nonetheless able to feel his energy. "Trunks!" he called while trying to follow him in a western direction, "What next?"

"Main land is about six or seven hundred miles in that direction!" he yelled, trying to move his arm to point.

"That's way too far away! We can never reach it!" Goten responded.

"Well, genius, you have any better suggestions!" Trunks glared.

"Not to be rude, Lord Efflata," the town elder sitting on top of Goten's spiky Super Saiyajin hair said, "But there's another island behind you, about a mile away, see?" Both Goten and Trunks turned but only Goten saw an island.

"Ah, that's great! Let's go!" Goten exclaimed enthusiastically and Trunks turned back, as if never having turned around in the first place.

On the beach, the islanders soon got back into their routine of bowing and grovelling. Goten and Trunks both paid little attention as they watched the other island being covered in lava and fire, smoke billowing high, mingling with the sparse clouds above. Both of them powered down, leaving the villagers disillusioned.

"Lords Efflata!" the elder stammered. "You… you… eh…"

Goten turned to look at the man, and the staring villagers behind them. "Do you want for someone to pick you up and take you to mainland later?" he asked.

The elder shook his head. "That's all right," he said. "The Efflata Island is only for religious purposes. This is our actual home, you see."

"Ah," Goten replied. "Good." He took to the sky, waving. "Bye!"

"Won't you stay, Lords Efflata?" the town elder's granddaughter pleaded. She looked at Goten with puppy-dog eyes.

Goten's smile widened and he put a hand behind his head in discomfort. "Eh, we're kind of on a mission, so love to but no."

Trunks looked at his friend and knit his brow. "They tried to kill us, Goten!" he protested. "Can't you even _pretend_ to be angry?"

Goten laughed. "Come on, Trunks! We got what we came for, didn't we?"

The girl interrupted again, brushing her black hair out of her face, holding Goten's orange rucksack in her arms. She walked up to Trunks real closely, into his personal space. "I believe this belongs to you, Lord Efflata," she said in a humble, though tempting voice.

Trunks took the backpack and put it over his shoulder, the Seven Star ball still firmly clenched in his hand. "It's Trunks," he said with a blush. "My name's Trunks." He recomposed himself and decided it would be wise to check if the other dragon ball was still in the bag. He glanced at the girl. "You didn't go through our belongings, did you?" he said, already knowing the answer.

She shook her head as if Trunks had suggested something horrible. "Oh no! That would be awfully rude, wouldn't it?" she replied.

Trunks stared. "You have no problem serving us to your Efflata god but you find it rude to go through our stuff?"

"Of course!" She fumbled at her dress nervously. "That is, we didn't know who you were, Lord Efflata! Please forgive us!" She bowed again, almost grovelling. Trunks pulled her up, feeling about as embarrassed as his mother usually made him feel. "Are you sure you'll be fine? Volcano gasses can be very poisonous." Although he hadn't forgiven these people, he didn't want to see anyone hurt.

"We'll be fine, Lord Efflata."

"Let's get going, loverboy!" Goten shouted at his friend. "We still have five more to go!" Trunks' blush grew deeper and he put the Seven Star Dragon Ball in the backpack, taking out the Dragon Radar to see where the other five were located.

He took to the sky and the villagers bowed to the spectacle, as did the girl by Trunks' feet. He looked up to Goten and his smile widened. Trunks wondered if Goten could ever feel resentment for anyone as he watched the Son wave at the people below with the eagerness of a child.

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Author's Note: Yes, I took way too long. I've been out of Dragon Ball for a while. Nothing permanent though, so not to worry. I will finish this story even if it will take me another five years to do so (yes, this story is now more than five years old).

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	37. Tale 34 Senbei Turbo

BOOK IV 

**"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Thirty Four---Senbei Turbo---**  
Rating: T**

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She woke up with a headache pounding on her forehead. Her eyes stung and she felt somewhat feeble. Her crimson eyes moved and she knew she had opened them. She couldn't see, and the voices she heard sounded distant and incoherent.

"Stop talking," she ordered in a raw voice. "Who's there?"

"It's Brynnah," one of the voices said. "Aera healed you. You were hurt pretty bad." Yamuna Tacra could feel the woman's presence when she came closer. She still had no idea who else was there. The half-Saiyajin still could not see. She didn't like being unable to see. "Where's that Healer wench?"

"Aera-san? You mean Aera-san?" Brynnah asked. Yamuna Tacra felt she was ready to slap that stupid feline across the room, or, across wherever they were. "Yes!" she wheezed, out of breath. "I mean Aera! Where is she!"

"Aera's taking a nap. She needed to get some rest. She's been up and about healing people all night. Quit your yammering." It was Ame's voice, Brynnah's mate. Yamuna Tacra hardly remembered what he looked like but the sound of his voice was upset. He was being rude to her. Nobody was ever rude to her. She gnawed her teeth together.

"Where is she!" she demanded a second time. She sat up. She still couldn't see a thing, not even vague shapes.

"No, Ame, let me handle this," she could hear Brynnah say. She could hear some sort of protest coming from the cat's mate and she was honestly hoping he wouldn't listen. She was in such a mood to kill that she wanted one served to her on a silver platter.

"Aera is in no condition to talk to you right now," Brynnah said to her. Yamuna Tacra could sense Brynnah was real close by and she reached out, grabbing her by her throat and pulling her down. "I said—" she roared in a suppressed voice.

"Stop it, killer." It was Aera. Yamuna Tacra could clearly hear her but wasn't entirely sure where the healer was. "That's enough," the healer continued. Yamuna sensed when Aera sat down by the chaise-longue she had been sleeping on, apparently. Slowly, she was trying to imagine the room at the best of her ability, and her current state.

"Your vision will be gone for a couple more days, I think," Aera said to her, putting her hands on the half-Saiyajin's temples.

"Keep your hands off me."

"As you wish. I'm sure what's left of your wounds can heal by itself, eventually." Aera sounded like she was challenging the Touch of Death. Yamuna Tacra felt a cough coming up, in between her snicker. She hated that stupid wench. She got up, reaching for the window. She knew by the sounds of the people present this room was small and a window was nearby, she could also feel the wind blowing softly from outside to in. When she touched the windowsill she smiled and pulled herself out, landing on a branch.

"Watch out!" Brynnah called out. "You could kill yourself!"

"What do you care?" Yamuna Tacra said, feeling around her to check if there were other branches nearby. She wanted out. She didn't want to stay here. She didn't want so many people involved in her life, telling her what to do, how to feel, what to think, where to stay. She never wanted to be here in the first place. She wanted to go home. Perhaps, she even wanted the Hakaisha to possess her. Wouldn't that be easier than to stay in this stupid piece-of-shit world? The branch moved, as if someone else had landed on it. She wondered who it was, barely able to sense any lifeforce in the first place.

"Who's there?" she demanded.

"I know you don't want to be here, Yamuna Tacra." It was Aera. The girl stood, and the Saiyajin girl could feel the other girl balancing herself against the movement of the tree, as well as her own.

"What do you want from me? What do you want me to say?" Yamuna Tacra said.

"Whatever you want. The choice is up to you."

"Don't give me that crap, Aera." Aera realized it was the first time the killer girl had called her by her name. She didn't know whether she should be pleased by it or not.

"But it's true. You're an adult now. You can make your own decisions. Darken can't tell you what to do. Nor can I. And I won't."

"Don't give me that bullshit!" Yamuna screamed. Blindly, she lashed out for Aera and the latter fell down. Aera pulled the Saiyajin with her, and the both of them dropped onto a lower branch, which gave way to the impact. They fell down again, twigs and branches scratching her blindly, Yamuna Tacra didn't care, didn't do anything, just held on to Aera, waiting for them to hit whatever bottom, hoping they would never have to wake up, ever again.

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"There's another two dragon balls really close to each other, on the mainland in the southern province. It's not too far from here. I suggest we go after those two first and move further inland after we've collected those," Trunks said, in mid-flight.

Goten smiled. "Sure, sounds good to me."

"Let's go by boat. It might be best to use transportation or we might raise suspicion. Especially yours truly, as president of Capsule Corporation. I can already imagine the headlines if they found out." Goten shrugged to his friend's suggestion, and the latter had a feeling Goten didn't really care much, or agree with him; he wasn't too sure which. Trunks let a capsule explode in the water and the two friends boarded the small power boat.

It didn't take too long before mainland came into view and they needed to move further into the land, across a mountain range before Trunks could adjust the Dragon Radar's scale once more. The boat transformed into a jet. Trunks and Goten didn't say anything the entire time. The Dragon Balls were nearby, perhaps that was what made them this silent. The plane moved over a village, with children playing outside on a schoolyard. An announcing pig in a suit spoke from up a tree, and a tiny Toriyama robot waved from the palm tree's trunk. "It's afternoon in Penguin Village," the pig spoke.

Goten ordered Trunks to halt for a minute, and he peered out the window. He exited, keeping himself aloft by using his chi. A ball soared towards him, coming from the schoolyard where a group of kids played a baseballgame. He caught the ball, then landed on a rooftop. Trunks didn't follow and kept seated in the jet's cabin. He speculated what his friend was up to.

"Hoyo?" a girl far below said, wondering.

"Kladi! Look, up there! There's a guy on the roof. He caught your ball!" one of the other kids, wearing a funny animal-ear hat, yelled.

"Hey! No fair!" Kladi, a kid with curly black hair, shouted. Goten jumped down from the rooftop, smiling. "So, watcha doing? You guys almost hit me with your ball. Who gave it such a batter in the first place?" Goten asked.

Kladi looked angry. "I did. You ruined my homerun."

Goten walked up to the approximately fourteen-year-old boy. "You have a good strike on you. You should be a professional baseball player. You should play for Yamucha's team!"

A girl jumped forward, her hair auburn and wavy, almost the same auburn as Maxine's. Goten smiled. The girl had a big bow in her hair and her eyes looked at him lovingly. "Ooh! You know Yamucha! You know Yamucha's team!"

Another kid pushed the girl away. She wore a hat with wings on it, spelling out a five-letter word: ARALE. "Quiet, Akane-cha," she said, a silly smile planted across her face. "Of course he knows Yamucha-cha. Anyone familiar with baseball knows Yamucha-cha. Yamucha-kin's super famous! Duh-cha!" Two little cupid-like babies floated over the girl's head, smiling silly smiles. Goten stared curiously.

"Losers," Akane said with an angry nod. "Everyone of you."

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Vejiita stared at the ceiling, then turned on his side to look at the woman at the other bedside. That woman had been working too much lately. Simply because that son of hers was incompetent as Capsule Corp.'s CEO didn't mean she should cover for his sorry ass.

She was wearing glasses, overlooking paperwork. Paperwork never meant anything to Vejiita. He continued to watch her, getting on Bulma's nerves.

"What, Vejiita? I'm working," she said, without looking up from her paperwork. Paperwork? Ha! Paperwork never meant anything to Vejiita, and he snatched the articles from her.

Finally, she gave him the attention he'd been planning to catch.

"Vejiita," she started to say, putting her glasses on the nightstand for safekeeping. "I'm not having sex with you tonight. I have a million things left to do—"

Vejiita smirked, still keeping the articles out of her reach. She leaned in to take them from him but he simply moved his arm further away. "Like what?" he insisted.

"For starters, examining the paperwork you just stole from me. I have job interviews tomorrow for the opening of a lower executive trainee since I promoted Sanshou to junior associate in the board of directors, in hopes of taking a load off of Trunks' back…"

Vejiita snorted. "And why would you want to do that? This is a family business. The brat should learn the world's not all about getting laid while mentioning his trust fund. The brat's not even keeping up with fighting anymore."

"Trunks is a virgin, for your information. He's been putting a lot of himself into this company. Give him a break," Bulma bit back.

Vejiita simply continued where he left off, ignoring the blue-haired woman. "In fact," he said. "I bet Bura could kick what's left of his brawn without bothering to get up—"

Bulma cut him off a second time, slightly agitated.

"Don't bring Bura into this! You know how I feel about—"

Bura was the exact reason Bulma had passed on the presidency of Capsule Corporation to Trunks. She wanted to raise her daughter properly, be there for her, be a devoted mother. Vejiita was to stay out of it. Bura was to be a normal girl, not a warrior.

Again, Vejiita snorted.

"I know you dread the thought alone of her becoming a warrior. She's a Saiyajin elite. Being a warrior's in her blood."

Bulma sat back, and folded her arms. "Vejiita, we've been over this. You've had your chance with turning Trunks into a killing machine. You failed. With Bura, it's my turn."

"Trunks is a sorry warrior," Vejiita said. "He's too much like you." The woman next to him narrowed her eyes but Vejiita ignored her. "He's run off again. What does he need those Dragon Balls for, anyway? Gonna wish he's not as much of a weakling anymore?"

Bulma sighed. She knew Vejiita didn't mean it. Why in the world would Trunks need to be a warrior if they had both Goku and Vejiita to keep them safe? Because it was in his blood? Trunks was no killer.

"Trunks and Goten are looking for the Dragon Balls to wish back Goten's colleague. She was murdered during the shooting that resulted from the bankrobbery the other day. Don't you ever watch the news, Vejiita?"

Vejiita huffed. "Weakling humans die over nothing. Why bother?"

"Shut up, Vejiita. Not everyone's as hard-boiled as you are."

The Saiyajin smirked at her. Just as Bulma started to wonder what he was up to, Vejiita crumpled up the documents he'd been holding, crushing them to dust. Angrily, she pushed him, trying to save what was left of the paperwork.

"Vejiita, I hadn't finished reading those!"

The Saiyajin Prince in turn smirked more. "You have now," he said in a low voice, turning over to push her under him. He kissed her, and Bulma lost herself in his kiss, forgetting about any complaints she had left. He always knew how to have his way with her, one way or another.

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"Hoyoyo…" the small girl with the winged hat murmured, looking up to Goten with a big, gaping mouth, stating her amazement. "N-cha!" she greeted the Son.

Goten smiled, levitating off the roof. She was rather cute, wearing big glasses and both a shirt and hat that stated ARALE. "Hi," Goten replied. "Arale, is that your name?"

The girl beamed at him, as did the two tiny angelic little boys by her side. Goten couldn't help but find it rather funny. "Hai!" Arale replied. "Can you teach me that?"

"Eh?" Goten started, confused, landing on the roof again. "Teach you how to catch a ball?"

"No, no!" Arale said with a grin.

"Teach you how to jump off a roof? That sounds kinda dangerous…"

"No, no!" Arale repeated.

"Eh?" Goten looked up to Trunks and the jet, which looked like a teeny tiny speck up in the sky. "Trunks! Help me out here! What does she want me to teach her?"

Trunks face-palmed. He didn't want any part of this! What was Goten thinking, showing these kids he could fly? Practically the whole world knew he was Trunks Briefs, CEO of Capsule Corporation! Of all people to raise suspicion… Had he no brain at all?

"Fly!" Trunks yelled. "She wants you to teach her how to fly!"

"Fly!" Goten heard Trunks shout down to him. "…o… each… fly!"

Goten frowned. "Whatever you say," he mumbled. He elevated slightly, then pointed at himself. "You mean this?" he said to the small girl. He didn't notice how the other kids were gaping at him as if they'd seen a ghost for the second time around. Akane, the somewhat older girl, shrieked. Arale turned to her.

"Didn't you see him do that the first time 'round?" Arale asked in an innocent voice.

"I'm not wearing my contacts," Akane said snappily. "They sting my eyes."

Arale and her two floating comrades turned to Goten again. "Yes!" Arale exclaimed. "I mean this! Fly! I want to fly, too!"

"But what about your two small friends," Goten responded. "Can't they teach you?"

The girl pouted, and her glasses slipped down to the tip of her tiny nose. "Senbei Turbo won't upgrade me…" From sounding slightly disappointed, her mood turned jovial again. "If you teach me, maybe I can fly, too!" The two angelic friends cheered with her, their antennae and wings fluttering.

Trunks watched them from above, wondering what in the world Goten was up to. Had they even time for this? Hadn't Goten been the one assuring him he didn't even have time to change his outfit?

"Sure, I could at least give it a try," Goten said to an applauding Arale. "If you can tell me where I can find one, maybe two, of these. He pulled a dragon ball from his bag, showing it to the group of children.

"It sure glows prettily," said Akane, looking at the dragon ball with the frenzy of someone smelling dough.

"Never seen one of them stupid balls," Kladi said, hands in his pockets and kicking up sand. "You ruined my homerun so even if I did know where to find one, I'd certainly not tell the likes of you." His friends, standing to both his sides nodded in agreement.

"I know," said Arale. "We got two just like 'em at home, don't we Kajira-kins?" she said, more to her two floating friends than to Goten.

"I knew it," Goten said, closing the deal with Arale. "In exchange for those dragon balls, I'll teach you how to fly."

"In exchange for one dragon ball," Arale said.

"Deal."

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"Come on, Uub! Put some effort into it!"

"Sensei!" the dark-skinned boy yelled back at his teacher. "I'm trying as hard as I can, Goku-sensei!" He shifted his weight, digging his feet firmly into the ground, he was ready to fight but remained polite and calm nonetheless.

Son Goku watched the boy with careful scrutiny. A rain would kick in soon, and he felt hungry. He hoped Uub would master this technique as swiftly as he had all other skills he'd been exposed to these past… months? Or had it been longer already? Goku didn't know. Goku wasn't one to keep track of time very well.

He kept an eye on Uub, who was trying to control his chi in the innate way Goku had told him to. Perhaps thinking or feeling it was easier than actually doing it? Goku wondered, as he watched Uub struggle, panting, his black eyes shut firmly, his jaw clenched. Hm, it certainly looked pretty hard, judging from Uub's efforts. Maybe Uub was trying too hard?

Goku's mind wandered. How long hadn't he been home? He didn't really remember. Did he not remember because he couldn't keep track of time? Likely. Didn't he remember because it'd been so very long, anyone would forget? Perhaps. Goku didn't know. Did he miss anyone? Missing perhaps wasn't the right word. He missed ChiChi's cooking. He missed spending time with Gohan or Pan-chan. He also missed hanging out with Goten, even if those times had been rare these past… years, was it? Again, Goku didn't know.

He walked over to Uub, and put out a hand to feel the rain that was beginning to pour down. "Let's give it another go later on, once it's stopped raining. I'm hungry," Goku told his student. Uub sighed, disappointed, but equally grateful to finally have a small break.

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The plummet was enough to make her regret having tried such a stunt in the first place. She felt rather sore, to say the least. She didn't move for a very long time, nor did she verify whether Aera was still alive. She couldn't say she didn't care, which irritated her more, but she also knew the healer was fine. At least, she figured the wench was fine. Was she? Yamuna Tacra was ready to pound her head against a wall, against a dozen walls. She was still unable to see, unable to feel much more than the harsh pain induced by this rather bumpy landing, a landing she'd called on personally, for whoever knew what reason. Reason? She was beyond reason. She was an idiot, wasn't she? She felt like one anyway.

A small grunt reached her ears and she turned, to listen more closely, figuring it was that healer wench. She sat up, ignoring blood trickling down her back. What had caused those wounds? The landing? Could it have?

"What're you gruntin' about?" she demanded.

Aera shifted her weight. Her eyes were calm, cold perhaps. "My leg," she informed her companion. "It's broken."

"That's not funny."

"Hardly," Aera replied, just as calmly as before. There was a silence.

"…" Yamuna Tacra stood, paying no mind to her wobbly, painful legs. "You mean, you're not joking?"

"Who would joke about such a thing?" Aera said, fairly snubbed.

Slowly, but no more than slowly, Yamuna Tacra's vision was returning, and she could discern dark shapes in vast shades of grey. She turned again, noticing she'd been talking to what was likely a tree rather than that healer wench. She saw a shadow approaching, and she moved back, in a defensive stance.

"Who're you? What do you want?" she barked. Something in the back of her head tapped in on the thought that the shadow did not move with a feline grace, and did not answer to her demands. Who was this shadow? Shadow? Her mind began to wander, and she dropped to her knees. What was going on? What was the matter with her? Were memories plaguing her? There was a shadow. Shadow, what shadow?

Aera started, letting out a shriek as a firm hand gripped around her arm, pulling her up. Yamuna Tacra turned, but couldn't see the enemy coming. Her eyes were searching but could not find, could not see. What was going on? What was the shadow? And what did it want?

Who was the shadow?

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"Let's go, let's go!" Arale exclaimed. "I'll show you my house, we train there, yes? I show you the dragonball, you show me how to fly?" Arale took off, dragging Goten with her by her tiny hand. Goten had a hard time keeping up with the girl's speed.

"Hey!" one of the boys complained, barking at Arale. "What about our match?"

Arale came to a sudden halt, and Goten almost toppled over. Arale's angelic friends also stopped, floating in mid-air. All kids looked at the frustrated boy.

"Same time tomorrow, we finish? I'll be winning even bigger time, Kladi! I'll be flying, ya?" Arale grinned. Goten wondered if now was the time to tell her flying wasn't really easy, though he had to admit it'd been easy to learn for him so he wasn't one to talk, basically. Without further ado, Arale took off again, dashing down the grassy field towards the woodlands, which lead them down a path away from the town. Again, Goten could barely keep up with the girl's speed as he gestured Trunks to follow.

"Mind if my friend up in the plane comes with us?" Goten yelled, still trying to keep up with the ever running girl.

Arale stopped dead in her tracks again, as did her angelic little friends. "Can he fly, too? Not on a plane and all."

"His name's Trunks. He's… shy." Goten really didn't know a better word for it and shrugged, rubbing the back of his head in thought. Arale didn't think for long and consented with Goten's suggestion with a quick 'okay!' and off she went again, pulling Goten with her the entire time.

The house they neared was tiny, and reminded the Son of his own house, in the same backwater way. A very old man sat in a rocking chair on the porch, his feet hidden underneath a plaid cloth, he wasn't paying any attention, watching television from a small set he rested on his knee. He didn't even bother to look up, and he was eating something unidentified, smearing sauce all over his moustache. Trunks landed, but still the old man didn't bother to look up from the tv-set. Arale greeted the old man, then waved at Trunks, and turned towards Goten. "You guys wait here? Me and Kajira-kins'll look for the dragonball in my room. No peeking. It's my hiding place." The girl giggled, then vanished into the house, waving her arms around happily.

Trunks approached Goten, nudging him. "So, now what?"

"Now we wait," the Son answered. Goten, unaware of rudeness, at least as far as Trunks felt, walked around the house to the backyard, lured by the sound of engines, drills and one passionate 'Eureka!' after the other.

A greying man stood behind a table, bent over a device of some sort. The man levitated, but Goten didn't notice and Trunks was too occupied trying to stop Goten from trespassing these people's backyard.

"Hi!" Goten greeted the man. The latter looked up, taking off his goggles.

"Hello," the man replied. "Can I help you? I'm no longer looking for another assistant. I re-programmed the cleaning bot, works perfectly fine. Sorry."

Goten didn't really get it and just as Trunks was about to apologize for disturbing the man Arale came running around the corner, followed by the Kajira-kins.

"N-cha Senbei Turbo-cha!" the girl greeted the man at the table. "You're all flying and now I'll be flying too!" Arale carried around the dragonball over her head, running a circle around Goten, beaming at him.

"Teach me! Teach me!" Arale shouted.

"Teach you what, Arale?" the man, apparently named Senbei Turbo, asked.

"To fly! Now all of us can fly! Kajira-kins, Turbo-cha, Arale-cha!" Arale said cheerfully, still running circles around Goten. Goten was beginning to get dizzy.

The man floated away from his table, and only now did Trunks and Goten notice he wasn't touching the ground. Goten was about to say something about it but Trunks nudged him, shutting him up.

"You're doing perfectly fine without being able to fly. You don't need an upgrade you don't need," the man said to Arale, floating up to the girl.

"What do you mean by 'upgrading', if you don't mind my asking?" Trunks wondered.

Senbei Turbo looked at the lavender-haired man, and smiled. "Why if it isn't Trunks Briefs of Capsule Corporation! What are you doing way out here of all places? The name's Senbei Turbo and by upgrading I mean just what it means. Upgrading a machine." The greying man held out his hand to shake Trunks', then to shake Goten's, introducing himself properly. He was still elevated slightly, and Trunks looked at him confusedly. Turbo noticed, and blushed with embarrassment.

"Gomen nasai," he apologised. "It's a habit. I'm not really used to having visitors, it's uh... part of being a genius?"

"Flying?" Trunks asked.

"Eh…" Turbo stammered.

Turbo's words caught Goten's interest and he looked away from the dragonball Arale had given to him. "I can fly! Does that mean I'm a genius, too?"

Trunks felt a snicker come up but he swallowed it. Turbo wanted to respond to Goten's remark but Trunks caught Turbo's interest before he could say anything.

"Are you a genius? An inventor?" Trunks curiosity had obviously been touched.

"I sure am. And an admirer of your mother's. She's quite the architect!" Turbo said, smiling.

Goten blinked. "Trunks, your mom's no architect, is she? She's a scientist, right?"

Trunks and Turbo looked at each other, and smiled. The both of them nodded, completely caught in a world they seemed to at least share in inquisitiveness. Trunks wanted to see everything Turbo was working on, and unafraid of Capsule Corporation making off with his ingenious ideas, Senbei Turbo showed him the lot. Goten on his part tried to teach Arale how to fly, having a great time with the girl and her angelic friends, feeling like a child all over again.

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Ziyuu stirred, moving her lips. Her mother was sound asleep, sitting on a chair by her bedside.

"Juu…"

She stirred again, and a bead of sweat appeared on her forehead.

"Juu-kun…"

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"You should come work for us," Trunks told Turbo.

"At Capsule Corporation?" the inventor asked.

"Of course!" Trunks brushed back his hair, taking a sip from the cup of coffee a household bot had just brought in. Coffee obviously wasn't the robot's specialization, Trunks noticed as he made a sour face, tasting the beverage.

"No, no. I could never leave this place. I've lived here since forever, and I couldn't leave daddy."

"…" Trunks pondered on that for a little while. He knew Senbei Turbo wasn't a rich man, and Trunks knew he could at least provide him with a new house, which would beat living in a ruin like this. By the looks of it, the roof was leaking, and instead of having a decent workshop at his disposal, Turbo worked outside, because his old shop which had originally belonged to his father Norimaki had collapsed long ago. A genius such as Senbei Turbo deserved to work under decent circumstances and Trunks was going to give them to him, if it was the last thing he could do. Genius shouldn't go to waste like that!

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Yamuna Tacra woke from her thoughts, tensing. Aera's features fell with a surge of pain by the pressure that was put on her leg when the enemy grabbing hold of her had forced her to stand. She looked into his face and she knew immediately something was very wrong. Was this an ambush? He was Crothian, and his intentions were undoubtedly as dark as his grim eyes, no, darker. Aera felt something crippling her more than her injury, but she wasn't sure what it was. She failed to stay conscious much longer, feeling the life slip out of her gradually.

Yamuna Tacra felt something grabbing her by her throat, squeezing the breath out of her. She could barely discern a shape, much less figure out what had provoked this. The fingers that clenched, pricked into her skin, seemed powerful, which guess was confirmed when she tried to pull herself out of her adversary's hold. What the hell was going on? Why was he so strong, why was she so weak? He heard her say one thing alone, the entire time.

"Saiyajin, a rare find indeed."

She could clearly hear Aera's scream before the world around her vanished completely and she was not only blind to whatever was going on, but deaf and dumb as well. Yamuna Tacra did not see. Yamuna Tacra did not hear. Yamuna Tacra did not speak. The world around her was gone but she was unable to take it all in.

"Kill the other one, we have no use for her. Zoria wanted only the Saiyajin."

The Crothian laughed, looking straight at the Nekojin that were standing in the treetops, high above. He could smell their fear as clearly as the stench of a ten day corpse, and knew why they did not move. His smirk grew wider.

"We'll deal with these felines later."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

A/N: doom? And a dragonball?

I hope none of you are too confused about all these new characters at Penguin Village: they're based on Dr. Slump, which was Akira Toriyama's first published manga.

I apologize for taking so long updating this. I've had a rough few months, and a bad time living in the DBZ community.

In the next episode: Will Trunks convince Turbo to come work for him? Can Goten teach Arale how to fly? What's going to happen to Yamuna Tacra and Aera? Will Goku ever go home? And will Uub learn that… whatever technique Goku was trying to teach him? What will happen to Ziyuu? Also, Kuririn will meet an old… friend…

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	38. Tale 35 Soar

BOOK IV 

**"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Thirty Five---Soar---  
**Rating: M**

_And beneath these faded dreams  
These murmured reminisces  
Beneath guileless thoughts  
I open my eyes_

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A/N: Rated Mature for violence.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"Can't I work for your company from the comfort of my own home? I can make a little money and still not feel like a sell-out, haha. All my friends live here. And I'm not fit for the big city," Senbei Turbo told Trunks, and despite his humorous tone he was very serious. As Trunks wanted to reply, Arale caught everyone's attention as she crashed into a pile of lumber that was stacked to the side of the house.

"No, no!" Goten called to her as he pulled her out. "Jumping isn't the same as flying. You need to focus your energy to uplift you!"

"Eh…" Trunks started to say. "Goten…"

Goten turned towards Trunks. "You wanna give it a go?" he asked innocently, blinking his eyes. He still held Arale by his hand, and they both stared at Trunks in an ingenuously adorable way.

"Arale's a robot. She doesn't have energy like we do. I don't think…"

"You don't think I can teach her, huh? I'll show you!" Goten stuck out his tongue. Trunks couldn't help but think Goten was a big kid. A big kid who felt under-appreciated, and Trunks didn't really understand why Goten felt that way. For a little while, Trunks and Senbei Turbo watched Goten and Arale before Turbo decided he should ask fatherly advice from Norimaki on Trunks' tempting offer.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Yamuna Tacra knew she was waking, as she was beginning to feel her own presence again. She felt her cheek touching a cool and hard surface, stone perhaps? She heard the droning hum of an air filter and the dripping of some fluid, was it water? She felt a chill wash over her, realizing she didn't know where she was, realizing she was naked. Why was she naked! She sat up quickly, although her body protested severely and she felt closed wounds opening again. Her cheek had been stuck to what she now realized was a tiled floor, and she suspected it had been stuck because of a dried puddle of… some liquid she'd lain in. She still couldn't see, therefore she tried to taste the liquid and identified it as blood, quite likely her own. She hissed upon moving, and touched the left side of her ribs with both hands. The Saiyajin figured several broken bones caused the pain she registered. The room became bright, and she understood she could discern light from dark, which was at least something. Had someone switched on the lights? She tried to get up but was hit by a stream of water coming from behind, toppling her over.

"Although we like our Saiyajins weak and bloody…" said a voice.

"Or dead as a doornail," said another one, interrupting the first. At the sound of unfamiliar voices, Yamuna Tacra tried to turn, ignoring the flow of icy water, even if in a remote way it did feel refreshing.

"Who are you? Where am I?" she roared in spiteful anger.

"Calm down, Saiyajin wench. You'll find out once we've patched you up a bit," answered the first voice. Yamuna Tacra thought she could discern a vague shape, but wasn't too sure and felt an unbridled frustration boiling up inside of her due to her enduring helplessness.

"Where's the Healer?" she demanded.

"How the hell should we know, stupid Saiyajin?" Again, the first voice had spoken but Yamuna Tacra could hear the other one laughing. These were no felines, and… Then it struck her, as the flow of water stopped and the room went dark again, these were definitely no felines as nobody knew she was Saiyajin! Who were these people? Were they Crothian? If so, how did they know she was Saiyajin? Unless… unless they had seen a Saiyajin before! But that was impossible! Wasn't it?

Where was the Healer? What had happened? All she remembered was falling out of those trees and… and being attacked. Had they actually beaten her? Had they brought her to this place? Were they to blame for her wounds? But who were _they_? Were they Crothian? What did they want with her? Where the hell was she? And where was Aera, erm, that Healer? In her utter helplessness, barely able to move, unable to see, Yamuna Tacra sat for a very long time, until from utter anxiety, she started to cry out.

"Oi! CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME? Oi!"

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

A heavy door opened and the lights were switched on again. Yamuna Tacra still could not see, and was too late to respond when a round object touched the back of her neck, through her hair and gave her the shock of a lifetime. Her eyes were open but she could not see. Her brain tried to force her to move but she was unable to. Her arms, her legs, they did not listen as strong hands grabbed her and pulled her up, chaining her, dragging her away from here. But where was here? And what would be there? She didn't know. And she could only squirm, barely able to breathe, unable to speak, unable to scream, unable to fight. What the hell was going on!

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"Alright," said Trunks, shaking Turbo's hand, then shaking Norimaki's wrinkled hand. "Here's my business card. I will make sure to send one of my associates to come pick you up on the 11th next month, so we can discuss the details. Unfortunately, I won't have time to come pick you up myself but we will meet again at the Capsule Corporation HQ very soon." Turbo nodded, and Norimaki focused on his television set again, grumbling something unintelligible, scratching his bald head.

Arale and Goten were still struggling to fly in the field behind the house, and Trunks looked at them again. Goten was very persistent, as was Arale but the girl wasn't really progressing at all. This, of course, did not surprise Trunks since the girl was actually a robot not programmed to fly but Goten refused to acknowledge that, for one reason or another. He watched the robot girl take big leaps, bigger each time bit every time the age old rule of 'what goes up' would prove to be correct. Arale just could not defy the laws of gravity, one hour after the next. It actually surprised Trunks, as he sat down by the porch and had another terrible coffee, how determined Arale was. She didn't even let all these failures get her down, and come to think of it, neither did Goten. It even seemed as if they were having a great time as their laughter carried across the field, beyond the house and beyond the tree-covered mountains.

But did they really have time for this? Shouldn't they be out looking for the dragonballs to wish back Goten's colleague? Hadn't Goten been the one to press on? Well, at first, yes. But now? Goten had been fooling around pretending to be Lord Efflata and at the moment he was playing catch with a robot girl. Didn't her loss hurt him more? Didn't her loss at least hurt him more than he was letting anybody in on? Trunks wasn't so sure anymore.

Arale stopped running around suddenly, to greet someone who was walking in their direction. Both Goten and Trunks followed Arale's eyes.

"Obotchaman!" Arale shouted, waving her arms about. "N-cha Obotchaman-kins!"

A small boy dashed over to where Arale was, smiling at her happily. "I got the money, I got the money," he told Arale. "Now I can feed the new kitties." Arale and the boy did a small dance together and Goten was still staring at them confusedly.

"Obotchaman-kins, meet Goten-cha," Arale said. "Goten-cha will teach me how to fly!" Arale grinned.

"Can you teach me, too?" Obotchaman asked, staring at Goten with a pleading look. Goten blinked. "Err, I can try?" the Son attempted.

"Hurray!" both Arale and Obotchaman cheered and Arale dragged Obotchaman inside the house. The two little angles followed, happily chuckling 'pi-pi-pi'. Goten still stared in confusion.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

They dropped her to the floor at some point, tossing clothes at her, and possibly armour, she wasn't entirely sure what it was. She felt as if she was going to panic. She had never been panicked before. She closed her eyes, to calm herself.

"Get on with it!" a voice hollered at her. "We haven't got all day. Put on your Saiyajin armour so you can present yourself to the Askran."

She glared, but had no idea who or what she was glowering at. She saw a little bit, could discern vague shapes and was grateful for it but would it be enough? She now realized they were Crothian, considering their absolute girth. She tried to feel up the clothes and armour they had given her, and slowly began to put them on, hoping to put them on right. When someone slapped her across the room she knew she had either been taking too long or had put her armour on backwards. She fazed out again, feeling weakened by the wounds and bruises she was suffering.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Trunks nodded at Turbo, who went back to work, and stood. He set down his empty cup, then walked over to Goten.

"So," he said. "Any progress?"

Goten smiled. "Arale's incredibly strong for such a young girl. She really reminds me of Pan-chan! Did you know she could run at the speed of sound? That's so fast for her age!"

Although Trunks appreciated Goten's enthusiasm, he didn't really know why they were out here doing nothing all this time. True, he had had a nice conversation with Senbei Turbo, who was incredibly smart, but talking about complicated inventions all day wasn't really what Trunks wanted as that had way too much to do with his job as CEO of Capsule Corporation. He sighed and tried his best to not sound as tired of this place as he in truth was.

"Arale's a robot," Trunks told his friend. "Unless she gets upgraded you will never teach her how to fly, simply because her system is not built for it."

"Wanna bet?" Goten told Trunks off.

Arale and Obotchaman, again followed by the flying Kajira-kins, came running again, holding up the other dragonball, the Sûshinchû or Four-Star.

"Teach us! Teach us!"

Goten laughed, taking the dragonball from Arale's hands and putting it away in his backpack.

"H-okay," the Son said with a smile. "Where were we?"

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She stood, listening, anticipating. Her eyes flashed open when she felt something near her, and she lashed out. Only now did she realize the weapons she had always carried on her hands, the Syrtan, were gone and she missed. She had her eyes opened, she knew. She was just as blind as she had been these past few days; were it days? She wasn't sure.

"Spoiling for a fight, are we?" A low voice in front of her said. She looked up slightly, realizing the source of those words was considerably above her, perhaps from some balcony or something?

"Fuck you," Yamuna Tacra snapped at the voice. She could vaguely discern the presence of other entities around and behind her and she ground her teeth, readying herself for combat.

"That can be arranged," the voice said, angering her further. She heard the creature snicker from above, his voice shifting to a higher tone.

"Wait till I shut you up," she started to say in a calm voice. "I'll kill you in a slow and excruciating manner. You deserve no better, and even if you did, you'll get what I stipulate, all of you will."

Had Yamuna Tacra had any eyesight she would have been able to see what was next coming but truth was that she was more handicapped than a mole. The king, seated in his throne high above nodded at one of his guards, standing by the Saiyajin's side who aimed his automatic laser-gun at the girl, and fired several shots. Yamuna Tacra was unable to avoid any of the beams that hit and wounded her and she screamed out in terror. She felt her flesh tear and burn from the inside, finding a way through muscle tissue and organs, evaporating as they hit bone but damaging nonetheless, burning her, tearing her up, making her brain disconnect from the pain out of some last-resort self-preservation. She fell, her knees hitting the soft carpet first, her hands following. She screamed, trying to get a hold of herself. She opened her eyes but she no longer cared being unable to see, blinded by the pain, blinded by the fury she swore to herself she'd get even. She couldn't pull herself up and therefore pushed herself back, looking up. She didn't say a word, only huffed, perspiring, pearls of sweat dripping down her face onto the neatly vacuumed carpet.

"Speak only when spoken to," a voice to her side said, and she shifted her eyes in his direction, even if she didn't hear anything. She moved her attention back to the man high above, waiting. Warm blood ran down her stomach, onto her legs and the floor covering and she knew she was getting shaky because of the blood loss, cold perhaps.

"Don't die on me, Saiyajin. You're a weak one. Is it because you're a female?" the same voice from above spoke to her. She didn't respond. She was drifting off again although she knew she should probably answer. "Why didn't you simply avoid the attack, hm?" the voice continued. "Do you wish to die? Do you not want part of this?" Again, Yamuna Tacra said nothing. She couldn't risk another attack. She was sure she wouldn't survive _another_ attack. "Well? Answer me!" the creature demanded.

She tried to move, and it hurt. "Part of what?" she asked.

"Look around you," he told her. "Surely that would at least give you an idea on what I'm talking about."

She pulled herself up, nearly toppling over. She looked, but again didn't see. "What should I be looking at?"

It would be impossible for her to notice the many hunting trophies, heads of one species after the nexts, which were all male and mounted. She didn't see how the king frowned, his cotton-candy pink brow furrowing. One of his guards moved their hand in front of the Saiyajin's face, though at a safe distance, just to make sure. Yamuna Tacra didn't notice. She was blind, after all.

"You're blind," the king stated. Yamuna Tacra looked up, surprised. "You brought me a blind Saiyajin! What use is a blind Saiyajin? Get rid of her, kill her, kill, kill, kill!" he screamed frenziedly.

"It's only temporary," Yamuna Tacra stated. "Don't get your hopes up." Why had she said so? Did she not want to die? Did she choose to live, after all?

"Fine! Let's postpone the killing part," the man ordered from above. "Take her to the infirmary!" He came down to her level, his face near hers, unafraid of the weakened Saiyajin. "If you value your life, Saiyajin, or your companion's, you will heal within a week and fight the Giant. If not, you're the one who will die in a slow and excruciating manner. You deserve no better, and even if you did, you'll get what I stipulate, you and those rebel curs."

"By the Askran Zoria's order," he screamed in her face, ordering around his subordinates. "Take her away!"

_Companion?_ Yamuna Tacra thought. _Companion… Aera?_

"Where's Aera!" she cried as they dragged her away, leaving a trail of blood that strained the previously immaculate carpet. "I demand you tell me! Askran! Where is she!" Her voice died as the doors to the chamber closed and that was the end of it. Or was it? She didn't have enough strength left to struggle anymore and she let her head hang, only to hear a familiar voice as she was hauled further down the corridors, to the medical wing.

:I'm here. I'm here, don't worry. I'm here, you can sleep now, close your eyes. I'm here…:

Was it that Healer's voice or was the blood loss taking its toll on her, clouding her brain? All the Touch of Death knew was that she was close to death and wanted to sleep, wanted to close her eyes, wanted that Healer… Aera, to be there. She exhaled, and that was all she remembered.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Kuririn looked about him. The mall was absolutely crammed with bargain-hunters. He wasn't looking for a bargain himself, though he hoped his wife and daughter weren't planning on spending too much money. The money his wife Juuhachi had made by threatening and blackmailing that old fart Mr. Satan was slowly diminishing given his wife's expensive taste in, well, everything and the costly university-college they were pushing Marron through. He sat down on a bench, hiding himself between two big palm trees kept in ceramic pots. He sighed. He was one lucky guy though, he figured. His wife was still as gorgeous as she'd always been and loved him despite old age – and old-fartedness – knocking on his door. And he had a beautiful, talented daughter who could basically be anything she wanted. A successful businesswoman? A epoch-making journalist? A field researcher the likes no one had ever seen?

"Kuririn?" a high-pitched voice enquired. "Is that you?"

Kuririn woke from his thoughts, scratching his greying hair. He blinked, and noticed a woman who stood in front of him. Her hair was pulled up playfully, and of a rich blue-green. Her eyes were big and blue and hidden beyind black shades which matched her stretch fabric dress, which was as shiny and black as her shades. "Why, it IS you, isn't it?" she exclaimed, hugging Kuririn tightly, smothering him with her breasts. When she finally let him go, Kuririn looked at her confusedly, recognizing her face as her smile began to fade and she was starting to doubt her own judgment.

"Maron?"

"Yay! You remember me!" She hugged him again, smothering him a second time.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"Yay! Look at us Turbo-cha! We're flying, flying!"

Goten looked at the two children soaring high above. He smirked to himself, patting him to the chest over being so clever. Turbo stared and laughed. All right, he had to hand it to Mr. Briefs' clever friend, they were flying alright!

"Clever to call for Kintoun and let that cloud do all the heavy work for you," Trunks said to his friend. Goten gave him a peace-sign.

"So, are you giving them your Kintoun?" Trunks continued.

"It's not exactly mine to give," his friend disputed. "Technically, the cloud has always belonged to my dad. But I know where to get a cloud for them. I'm sure if we'll ask Korin real nice he'll give us a cloud for Arale and Obotchaman!"

"Oh no!" Trunks protested. "We don't have time for such a side-tour."

"Come on, it'll be fun. Arale and Obotchaman could come with us."

"…"

"Ah, come on Trunks!"

"Fine, whatever. After all, it's your quest for the dragonballs." Happy to get his friend's permission, Goten grabbed Trunks by the hands and did a little dance, while Arale and Obotchaman soared around them on the Kintoun. The little Kajira-kins shook their wings and hummed a little tune. It seemed Goten was indeed as carefree as his father, or was he?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"I'm here," a gentle voice whispered to her. "Sleep. Murass-sama will look after us now."

Was it true? Could it be? Could it actually be Aera's voice?

"Healer… wench…"

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A/N: This has not been proofread. I apologize for any mistakes but do point them out to me.


	39. Tale 36 Rise Shen Lon!

BOOK IV 

**"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Thirty Six---Rise Shen Lon!--- **  
Rating: T**

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

When Maron finally broke the hug, Kuririn took a good look at her again. "Wow, Maron!" he told her. "You haven't changed all these years."

She smiled widely in return. "Well, you have! You grew hair! And here I always thought you were naturally bald." She started to ponder, losing herself in meaningless thoughts. Kuririn wondered why he had ever liked her. She leaned in, accidentally showing her cleavage, and sat down. Okay, Kuririn now remembered why he had liked her. She was a hot babe, after all. And after all these years, she was still a hot babe.

"So how's life been treating you, Maron?"

She seemed confused, and blinked at him. "Who's been treating me?"

Yes, Maron hadn't changed at all.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"Can you draw us a map to Mr. Korin's tower? We want to buy a Kinto Un, too!" Arale told Goten the moment she and Obotchaman had landed. Goten frowned at her, wondering.

"A map? Why not just take you guys there?"

Obotchaman adjusted his glasses. "Weren't you looking for these shiny star balls? We can go on the Kinto Un adventure on our own, and you can keep looking for the starry balls!"

It seemed, much to Trunks' relief, Arale and Obotchaman had made up their minds. Goten and Trunks ought to continue their own quest, like Arale and Obotchaman would start up their own. Now, all they had to do was convince Senbei Turbo they weren't planning on taking very long. He needed his assistant, after all. Now, more than ever, did Turbo's telekinesis prove to come in handy, what without Arale to assist him and all.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

When she finally woke, again, she noticed some sort of collar around her neck was restricting her movement, reacting to every move she made or even intended to make, buzzing slowly. The room was well furnished, and her bare legs touched the soft and velvety carpet. The floor was covered with bigger and smaller cushions and from the ceiling a fan turned endlessly, bringing her much needed cool. Why was it so damned hot in here?

"It's because of the volcano that's dormant underneath us. It produces toxic gasses and a lot of heat. Try touching the bars of your cage." It was Aera's voice.

"Aera…" Yamuna Tacra got up and looked about her. She did notice she was in a cage. She wondered why she hadn't noticed straight away. Feh, it was likely it had taken Aera a while, too. Her fingers neared the bars but she pulled them back quickly. The heat that radiated from the bars was unbearable even from a slight distance. Sweat appeared on her brow, and she sat down, thinking. Where was she? What was this place?

"You're in section D, if I'm not mistaken," Aera told her.

"Stop reading my mind, blasted Healer!" the Saiyajin snapped. There was a moment of silence, and Yamuna Tacra sighed. "Suppose you also know what this place is, eh?" she continued.

"Askran Zoria's personal zoo. It appears he collects specimen of alien races for reasons I have yet to figure out. He kills the males to stuff them and display them in the halls of his royal chamber, and he cages the females, indicating he has a slight preference for live women, whatever that means…" Aera answered.

What Yamuna Tacra didn't see was the difference between her cage and Aera's. Hers was rather luxurious, with tapestries, cushions and a fan blowing cool air incessantly. She heard breathing of other individuals, panting, huffing. Who were they? She shrugged those thoughts off and laid down, thinking of an escape. Aera stood, her feet scorched and burned. Her jail wasn't nearly as tolerable as the Saiyajin's. It was bare, hot, and moist. Fungi grew on the walls, and the floor was hot enough to boil an egg. The healer wondered how long she could keep up like this. She was hungry. She was tired. She felt alone. She needed Murass, but he wasn't answering her pleas. All she got was his answering machine.

_You've reached the thought mail of Murass-sama. I'm not in at the moment. If you wish to know the truth of God, press one. If you wish to know the answers of the greater universe, press two. If you wish to know tomorrow's weather conditions, press three. If…_

It didn't make much sense. Murass-sama was always there for Aera. She was His progeny, His most trusted. Why would He possibly be ignoring her?

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

It took but a little while for Goten and Trunks to collect the remaining three dragonballs after gathering their third and fourth they had received from Arale's chubby robot hands.

"How many have we gathered so far?" Trunks asked in the middle of flight. Nothing but water and an occasional pointy rock spread out below them, water of a vast ocean they had been busy crossing for more than an hour by now. They had abandoned the utilization of aeroplanes and taken up flight by using their chi energy. Trunks had to put in quite some effort to keep up with Goten, whose enthusiasm had been growing with each dragonball they had found after their encounter with Arale and Senbei Turbo.

"Six," Goten replied. "We need one more. The One Star Dragon Ball."

Trunks didn't particularly like how quiet Goten had been during most of their search. The only hint of life he got from his friend was when they found another Dragon Ball. He couldn't even begin to imagine how the Son felt inside. He hadn't slept in ages and he had lost his colleague, a girl he had been working with for months. Trunks knew Goten had been very fond of her. No, scrap that, Trunks knew Goten had loved her.

"It should be close," Trunks said, looking at the Dragon Radar.

"Where to?" Goten asked.

"Down below," Trunks replied, pointing at the sea. Goten smiled and dove for the water below. Trunks shrugged and followed Goten's lead, disappearing beneath sea-level in no time. So much for using the submarine he kept in his capsule case!

Seeing under water was harded than one would think, finding anything under water proved an even bigger challenge, much less finding a dragon ball. Although Trunks had his dragon radar to navigate with, he couldn't really determine the dragon ball's exact location just yet.

Goten had the same problem but was still looking frantically when Trunks had to go up for air. Trunks wondered whether Goten would even remember he needed to breathe. Trunks took in a good portion of air and dove a second time, to find a dolphin swimming around Goten, poking at him. Obviously, Goten wasn't really in a mood to play and Trunks was surprised with the dolphin's persistence.

The dolphin poked at the bag Goten carried on his back and a dragon ball fell out. At that point, Goten lost his breath and had to go up for air. Hastily, the dolphin swam after the dragon ball. Trunks didn't even need to follow as the dolphin returned with the dragon ball after a short chase. When Goten swam back to below the surface, the dolphin gave back the dragon ball, making high-pitched sounds, swimming around the Son once again. It gestured Goten to follow, and Trunks decided to do just the same, following his friend and the dolphin's lead.

He definitely wondered where this was going.

The dolphin led them inside a secluded grotto, which to itself led to an underwater lake. The marine mammal let its dorsal fin cut through the water and it puffed through its blow hole. Both Goten and Trunks gasped for air, surprised to find a place to breathe this far below the ocean surface.

Trunks was just admiring the stalactites which were covered in glistening crystals and bluegreen mosses when Goten shouted excitedly.

"The One Star Dragon Ball!"

Trunks followed Goten's stare as the latter swam to the lake's edge further down the grotto. On the underwater beach the One Star Dragon Ball lay, half buried in the coral white sand. They could now summon the dragon Shenlon!

Goten smiled, knowing what the find meant, and also knowing without the dolphin it would have taken them ages to find the dragon ball. He stored the dragon ball in his bag, then dove back into the water, petting the dolphin.

"Thanks, friend," he said to it. "Thank you, thank you!"

The dolphin in turn whistled, swimming around the Son and patting its flippers at him. "You're welcome," it replied.

Goten smiled until he recalled why he had been gathering the dragon balls. "I'd love to stick around," he told the animal, "But I'm on a mission."

The dolphin nodded, still whistling, and dove to lead its new friends back to the surface of the ocean.

Breathing had never felt this good, when Goten reached the ocean's surface. He was ecstatic almost. He'd have his Maxine back! Goten smiled broadely, and his heart pounded in his throat.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

They had been chatting for well over an hour and Kuririn still had no idea why she'd come up to him now and not say, twenty years earlier.

"Oh, Kuririn!" she gasped, burying her face in her hands rather dramatically. "I've always loved you and only you!" Kuririn wanted to tell her he was married now, and had a daughter but he really didn't have the heart to tell her. After all, she still loved him, right?

"Excuse me?"

Shocked by hearing the voice, Kuririn fell from the bench. He picked himself up quickly, but not before he'd looked up into the narrowed eyes of Juuhachi-gou, his wife.

"Juu! It's not what you think!"

"And what am I thinking, Kuririn?" the woman replied, sullen though composed.

"Eh…"

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

On a beach nearby the place they had found the last of the seven balls, Goten and Trunks spread out the dragon balls to call forth Shen Lon. Slowly, the dragon balls began to light up and Goten's face turned frighteningly serious, lighting up with the glow that came from the radiating dragon balls. His hair was still somewhat damp from the seawater, his shirt was blowing in the wind, tugging at his torso. His heart was pounding, his head throbbing. He was nervous but this was what he'd looked forward to since the time the thought of gathering the dragon balls for Maxine had first nested itself in his brain.

"Rise Shen Lon!" Goten screamed.

The sky began to darken after Goten had uttered those words, and lightning disrupted the initially flawless skyline. Violent, more violent, clouds gathered and bursted into one another, rumbling and toppling over and under connecting clouds, billowing, rising and falling, much like Goten's agitated chest and the ocean surface crashing onto the shore.

A brighter light than before burst from the dragon balls as Goten had spoken, and a heavier wind caught up, blowing up sand to the degree both Goten and Trunks had to cover their eyes. At that disrupting moment, the great dragon appeared, its long body curled all the way across the beach until high up in the sky.

"Which of you has a wish to fulfil?" Shen Lon spoke in its deep voice. "Speak your wish."

Goten had thought about his wish from the moment he had decided to gather the dragon balls. He swallowed, this was what he'd been waiting for all this time. "Shen Lon," he started to say, his voice cut off by the wind, too soft to be heard.

"Speak up!" the dragon bellowed. "I cannot hear!"

my colleague Maxine was killed in a shoot-out in front of South Satan Bank. I wish for you to bring her back to life."

The silence that followed was disrupted by the neverending winds, and the sea rising and falling restlessly upon the shifting sands.

"Is that so?" Shenlon spoke gravely as he came closer. "_Damedo_. No. I cannot grant this wish."

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A/N: What! Yes, I'm evil. This is possibly the shortest chapter I have ever written but I really felt I was taking too long with everything. It's time we pick up the pace a little and for that, we will need to make some leaps in time. Try to understand.


	40. Tale 37 Crashes in your Heart

**BOOK IV**  
**"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Thirty Seven---Crashes in your Heart---  
**Rating: T**

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The wind still blew unkindly across the shore. A gull tried to keep his balance in the winds but was blown away almost instantly. Thunder and lightning continued to lash about the massive dragon suspended over the beach. Again, Shen Lon shifted about impatiently.

Trunks gasped, still trying to cover his eyes from the lashing sand thrown up by the wind. He didn't remember the dragon looking this… disturbed, annoyed perhaps. Goten stared at the dragon incredulously, no, he stared blankly. He didn't understand. The dragon could not fulfil his wish.

"What? How!" he exclaimed in disbelief. "Why? You have the power to bring back the dead!"

"That I do," the dragon replied, obviously losing its lenience. "But my power cannot go beyond that of free will."

"_Nani?_" Trunks wondered.

Goten glanced at his friend, then turned his full attention back to the dragon. "What do you mean?"

"The matter of your wish is to bring back the dead. If the dead do not wish to be brought back my power is insufficient to go against that will. Do you have another wish?"

Goten wasn't sure he understood what the dragon was saying. "You mean, Max doesn't want to be wished back!"

His mind filled with all sorts of questions. He didn't know what to think. Did Max really prefer to stay dead? Was it because she didn't love him? Had she accepted her death? He didn't understand.

"Speak your wish or let me return to my slumber!" the dragon spoke, impatient.

"But I don't understand!" Goten exclaimed desperately. What was going on? How could his wish not be fulfilled? Again, the great dragon moved, rumbling in protest.

"Goten!" Trunks shouted at his friend, trying to overpower the dragon's thunderous presence. "Ask Shen Lon to show you _why_ Max doesn't want to return from the spirit world!"

The Son nodded in response to Trunks' idea and focused on the dragon.

"Shen Lon. I want Max to tell me why she doesn't want to come back!" He seemed rather calm to Trunks, which was something the latter didn't understand. How could Goten not be so affected by such disappointment?

"Very well," the dragon responded with slight dissent. "Your wish will be granted."

The dragon moved its head to look up. "It will take some time but your wish will be granted."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Bura sat back leisurely. School was finally over. She now had even more time to enjoy herself in the pool house and take sips from her Shirley Temple. She enjoyed the sunshine that lit up this side of the veranda and she turned in her chair, to lie down on her stomach. She took a sip from her drink and flipped a page of the magazine she was reading. The girl rolled her eyes when she felt the ground move underneath her, followed by the sound of explosions. "Daddy…" she said with a sigh, and got up.

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Goten stared, wondering when the wish would take effect. Thoughts ran rampant circles through his brain without ever so much as connecting properly. He didn't know what to think, or to feel. He glanced at Trunks, who sat down in the sand, looking at the dragon. Was Trunks deliberately focusing on something else?

:Hey you:

It was Maxine's voice. Where did it come from? Goten turned and turned, looking frantically. Where did the voice come from?

:It's telepathy: the voice assured him.

"Tele-what?" Goten stammered. Trunks sat up, curious.

:Telepathy. I'm speaking directly in your mind. Wh… holy mother of Kami! What the hell is that thing:

Goten blinked. "…?"

:That must be the biggest lizard I've ever seen: Maxine thought to him. Goten smiled, laughing. "It's just Shen Lon, the wish dragon."

:Shen Lon. How about that…:

"Why won't you come back, Max?" Goten asked. He thought he could feel some sort of unease coming from… wherever Maxine's voice was coming from. He wasn't too sure and he knew she was trying her hardest to hide things from him. He didn't understand.

:To the point, are you: she joked. Goten looked up innocently, expectantly, like a lost puppy waiting to be crushed but wagging its tail regardless. Had she still held on to her body, Maxine would've had a hard time holding back her tears. It hurt her to see Goten like this. She had loved his carefree nature, she had loved how he made her laugh. She had loved him, even. Unable to say any of it without weakening what she really felt, she opened her thoughts to him, and explained everything. How much she loved him, how much she had enjoyed his company, how happy he'd made her in those few precious months. But she showed him more than that. Although Maxine no longer had a body that connected her to the living, allowed her to feel real pain, she could still feel, albeit in a different way. She showed him why she couldn't return to him. She hoped he'd be able to understand. She hoped he'd be able to forgive her. Not for her though, because she was dead and the dead mattered little. No, she hoped he'd be able to forgive her for his own sake. She didn't tell him. She hoped he'd be able to figure that one out on his own. She knew he would.

Maxine's soul understood he was angry. She understood he felt rejected. She understood how much losing someone hurt. She understood how much it would continue to hurt.

:Good bye, Goten Son.:

"…" Goten stood idly, his hands in his pockets.

The dragon shifted its position and it seemed the connection was lost.

:I'll look out for you, Great Saiyaman.:

Goten wasn't sure of anything anymore. He looked at the dragon and told the great Shen Lon to 'go away'.

Trunks pulled himself out of the sand. As the dragon vanished, he covered his face to protect his eyes from the torrential sand. Goten merely squinted, unmoving.

"What happened?" Trunks asked, unable to control his curiosity.

"…" Goten didn't look at Trunks and didn't bother to answer. Trunks could wait for whatever answer Goten was willing to offer him, whenever. The lavender haired man saw a tear just below Goten's eye and the Son smiled.

"Sand gets in my eyes," he told his friend. Trunks didn't need to hear more, he knew more than enough. The two friends stood side by side till long after the moon had risen and the sun had vanished below the sea.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Kuririn kindly introduced his wife to Maron. Juuhachi-gou was only playing with his mind when she'd glared at him. She trusted Kuririn. She didn't really understand the concept of ex-girlfriends but soon found out Maron was a bit of an airhead. Well, Juuhachi learned quickly that Maron wasn't exactly in love with Kuririn anymore but had a credit card debt to pay off. Since she no longer worked as an underwear model, she had a hard time to get by. Now, none of that mattered to Juuhachi much, as it wasn't her problem but Kuririn insisted upon helping her out.

Kuririn wanted to lend her the money she needed, feeling sorry for her.

"How much debt are you in, anyway?" he asked.

Maron flipped back her hair, annoying Android 18. "Hm, just about…" Maron pondered. Juuhachi narrowed her eyes. She didn't particularly enjoy Kuririn having named their daughter after this woman. What kind of ditz was she?

"Just about…" Maron continued. "3 Million zeni." Maron smiled harmlessly.

Kuririn fell over, his feet up. "...!"

Although Maron didn't really feel much for becoming Master Roshi's cleaning lady, to give Juuhachi a bit of a break from the old pervert (which, of course, Kuririn failed to mention), the moment Kuririn told her it would be more of a position as an assistant, Maron agreed to his suggestion. Boy, wouldn't the Kame Sen'nin be pleased? Kuririn showed a peace sign, and Android 18 simply stared blankly. It was all fine by her.

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Chikyuu's summer was coming to an end. And to ChiChi it seemed the summer had changed her youngest more than she could ever have assumed. No, ChiChi knew it wasn't the summer that had changed him; it had been that colleague of his, the one that had been killed during a shooting incident not too long ago.

She had worried for her son, how Goku's absence had affected him over the years. With her worry for his father's absence she had overlooked the risk of all other possible disturbances in his young life; she had ignored the disturbance caused by a woman. In all her constant worry, ChiChi had failed to notice her youngest had become a man. Her baby boy was an adult now, and she had tried so hard to protect him from the strain of losing a loved one – she had tried so hard to protect him from Goku's inability to be a good father – she had forgotten about everyone else who could possibly hurt him.

Her son suddenly went as he pleased after the woman had died, ChiChi noticed. And although Goten never mentioned Maxine or her passing, ChiChi knew how much his late colleague was still on the boy's mind.

ChiChi only saw her son during breakfast and dinner but everytime she tried to get through to him he either drove their conversations to shallow, meaningless subjects or systematically avoided her questions, smiling innocently, looking unaffected by anything.

ChiChi had the feeling she could no longer get through to her own son, and she wasn't the only one who felt the boy had changed.

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Gohan was poking at his food, listlessly staring ahead of him. He didn't feel like eating. He didn't feel like anything. Videl had long noticed. She'd decided not to pry, especially not with their daughter present. The black-haired woman knew what was plaguing Gohan wasn't something meant for Pan-chan's ears. She glanced at her daughter, who was eating her fourth portion already. The girl had inherited her appetite from her father, from his Saiyajin side to be exact. Sometimes it scared her how Saiyajin her daughter acted but Gohan always assured her it was most likely just a phase. He always told her he had grown out of his Saiyajin behaviour as soon as he had settled down with her. Videl had to admit he was right. Everything about Gohan had changed during their first years of marriage, with the exception of Gohan's Saiyajin appetite. An appetite he didn't seem to have tonight.

"Can I be excused?" she heard Pan ask, snapping her out of her thought-string. She looked at her daughter and nodded. She wasn't in any mood to tell the girl to wait until everyone had finished their meal. Besides, it didn't look like Gohan was planning to finish his serving anytime soon. As their daughter had left, Videl could no longer withhold her curiosity.

"What's wrong, Gohan?"

Her husband looked at her, his face painfully blank. He poked at his food some more. "I'm worried about Goten," he said.

Videl rubbed his arm to assure the Son she was there to talk. He smiled at her and responded to her gesture. "Ever since his colleague died he hasn't been the same. Now, I know how fond he was of Maxine but what really strikes me is how bad he's taken it. It's as if he's in utter denial to what happened these past weeks. It's almost as if he's been denying Maxine ever existed in the first place."

"That's not true, Gohan," Videl disagreed. "He visits her grave almost daily."

"I know that, Videl-chan. I've seen him leave at the strangest times. He sneaks off constantly but mostly not to visit her grave. He sneaks off to fight, especially to fight in the streets of Satan City. The Golden Warrior has returned."

"The Great Saiyaman?" Videl wondered.

"Yes. He's going too far, Videl. He's arresting any citizen breaking even the most trivial of Satan City's laws. If they protest he tends to get too rough on them. I'm sure it's unintentional, but with a Super Saiyajin, losing control is risky business. This morning the third citizen was submitted to hospital because of Goten. The poor man was only feeding the ducks at the city park. Everybody knows feeding the ducks is prohibited but nobody takes it to account. It's never been a problem until now," said Gohan, still poking at his food. "The thing is, Goten doesn't seem to feel he's doing anything wrong."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"He won't listen to me. He won't even listen to Trunks," Gohan stated.

"What about ChiChi? Goten has always—"

Gohan shook his head, interrupting his wife. "Mom has enough on her mind as it is. With dad never being around anymore, I fear telling her of Goten's state will only drive her crazy. She worries enough about him without knowing all of this. Goten doesn't mean bad. It's just that he doesn't seem to realize how strong he is." Hesitantly, Son Gohan took a bite of his food. He noticed the food was cold but he didn't mind and took another bite. "He seems a little lost," he said eventually.

"You think he'll find his way?" Videl asked.

"I hope so."

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

A shadow appeared on her face and she opened her eyes immediately. She was mighty pleased to have her full eyesight back at last but wasn't too sure she liked who she was looking at.

"What do you want fatass?" Yamuna Tacra sneered.

The dark man, his skin covered in horns, laughed at her. "You Saiyajin are all the same! It seems you're quite ready to face the Giant."

"Guards!"

A handful of similar looking fatso's appeared by the king's side, holding automatic rifles, for whatever purpose. "Yes, lord king Askran Zoria!" they called.

"Prepare her for the showdown, by the king's order!"

"Yes, lord king Askran Zoria!" they repeated in unison. The king turned towards Yamuna Tacra again, nearing her cage. She narrowed her eyes in response.

"I am going to enjoy this, Saiyajin," he told her scornfully. He turned, his cape fluttering behind him. Yamuna Tacra in turn didn't say a thing. She was waiting for those idiots guards of him to make one bad move. Oh, she'd take them out alright! She was stronger than she'd ever been now she'd recovered. Her senses had been sharpened the time she'd been blind, and the time she'd been partially blind. Recovering from her wounds, she had somehow gathered more strength than she'd ever possessed. She'd kill them. She would, but not just now. Once she was done with this Giant, whatever the hell he was, she was going for the grand prize! She would wipe out the lot of these fatso's. She'd destroy all Crothians, and leave the Askran Zoria till last. She constricted the fanatical laughter she felt sweltering inside of her, pushing it back to the depths of her throat. She looked at them straightfaced, except perhaps for her eyes, which burned with a strong desire. She longed for the kill, and she was mighty pleased with what she was sure she was going to get. She didn't even bother to think of Aera this time.

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A/N: Short but at least I'm updating more often. I promise I'll explain what Maxine showed (or told) Goten in the next episode!


	41. Tale 38 The Giant

**BOOK IV**  
**"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Thirty Eight---The Giant--- **  
Rating: T**

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The moon was out tonight. Skyscrapers and other big office buildings had most of their lights down, with the exception of the surveillance lights. The summer had ended, Goten could feel it on the wind, definitely from this height. The city was surprisingly quiet this evening, and in all honesty he wasn't in the mood to keep up his Great Saiyaman act much longer. He just wasn't cut out for this job. He couldn't organize things as well as his brother and felt burdened, fighting crime on his own. Should he stick to being a cop? Was there much of a difference between his day job and his night job? Was he cut out to be a policeman in the first place? He sat down and sighed, letting one leg dangle over the edge of the building's roof, resting his hands and chin on his other.

He still didn't understand why Maxine had accepted her fate just like that. He remembered what she told him very well, although he couldn't understand her choices at all. The way he'd looked at her, she must've seen his confusion. Goten had been able to feel what she felt, Goten had been able to feel this was not what she deserved. Maxine had not been looking for some kind of validation, to justify her choices to him either.

"Listen to me, Goten." She had told him. The unease he felt on the inside was one Maxine could not diminish, regardless of assuring him she'd honestly loved him. "I'm older than you are, Goten Son." What was so new about that remark? Goten had always realized there was an age difference between them. How did that matter? "Age onto itself matters little, I suppose," she said. "What it really means is…" Silence filled between them, a silence in which Goten could feel clearly how much she cared. Why was she torturing him? Why had she been torturing him?

"I've lived a life before I met you, Goten. Six years and twenty-two days before we met, the life I had lived happily for many years ended. I was married, he was a good man, though very different from you. We had two kids together, two boys." She showed him the happiness she had felt during those years, she showed him the accident that ended all of it, except her life. He saw her face, smiling but tired. He saw her unbuckle her seatbelt to settle down her excited children in the backseat. He saw the _other_ man, her husband, doze off behind the wheel. He needn't know more. Maxine was the only one thrown from the car before it caught fire from the collision that followed moments after the man had dozed off. She had been the only one to survive, unbuckling her seatbelt in some freakish coincidence to reach over her seat and give her kids a cuff over the ears. What did this mean? Did she choose the dead over the living? Did she choose her dead family over him? Had she? "It doesn't mean I don't love you." Does it? "Why change fate?" Because we can! Isn't that enough? Why? Why! What point did the dragon balls have? What point did gathering them have? What purpose lay behind all this? But Goten didn't even get that far. He smiled and nodded, unable to explain what he was feeling, unable to feel what he should be feeling. And what was that?

The light of a security camera moved across his face and he smiled to himself when he heard the sound of gunfire echoing in the distance. He put on his helmet, saluting the moon as he jumped off the roof.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She moved her eyelids, keeping them shut. Her black hair was growing quite long, caressing her cheeks on both outer sides, her bangs fallen back, her eyebrows pulled in a frown. She saw a small boy with a monkey tail, his hair the same as her grandfather's. Pan moved her face at the sight of him, in restless dreaming. Where were they? She closed her eyes with more violence when the mood shifted, the boy's smile fading into a scowl, pain, misunderstanding, a feeling of agitation she was unable to understand at such a young age. With a start, Pan woke up.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"It's out of the question. You're but a kitten. And we've no combatant nature like your alien, spiteful friend had."

Ashita looked at her grandson with helpless compassion as the other elders had spoken. Dace moved his whiskers in frustration, his eyes narrow, angered.

"What do you old people know? And she's not dead, if that's what you're trying to say," he snapped at them furiously.

Ashita tried to shush the boy as this clearly was not how one should address the elders. Disrespecting the Council of Elders was not something anyone would even consider, except Dace, under special circumstances obviously.

"Let the boy speak his mind," said an old, white feline, his bright eyes belying his true age, his long beard showing it nonetheless.

"We've been forced to tolerate these Crothian filths in what before all this was a world of peace and equanimity, a world of harmony as you yourselves stated so very proudly," Dace spoke in a clear voice, making himself heard amongst all of the councillors. "What use have we of a world that is but about the memory of those that have no future, of old people? What use is there for us youngsters if we have no future either? The Crothians are destroying this world, have destroyed its frail balance! You speak of prophecy and precursor without knowing what it all means. You are no combatant species but my generation is. Tonight's our only chance. We're going in. With, or without your blessings, head councillor. With or without them."

"You have a bold heart, and a strong head, youngling," the old cat said. He exchanged looks with the other felines seated at the table, then nodded. "Very well, Dace. But you're gonna need more than our blessing to destroy the Crothian king."

Dace smirked. "Not just their king," he said with foreboding determination. "All of them."

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Without losing his temper this time, the Great Saiyaman tossed the man, who was clearly a drunken lout bothering prostitutes standing at the side of the road, into the back of the alley. Dustbins clattered in an unrestrained rhythm, and a stray cat fled the scene. The Great Saiyaman struck a pose, showing a peace sign.

"Nice beat," a young man said.

The Great Saiyaman turned to look at him. "Thanks," he replied. The dark eyes hidden behind the blinded pane of his helmet registered a young man, with a slightly coloured skin. The guy in front of him looked rather malicious, though his eyes were rather friendly, half-hidden behind black bangs. His bangs were the only hair he had, for the top of his head was as bald as a cue ball. Although Goten was used to Saiyajin hair, this style looked rather extreme.

"So, you're the Great Saiyaman. Are you the real deal or an impostor?" he said, not repressing a smile.

The Great Saiyaman commenced an propositioning sequence of poses, waving his arms and legs, and twisting like a ballerina. _This oughta convince him!_ Goten thought. _I'm so cool. Haha._

The guy stared, embarrassed. "Alright, alright! I believe you," he said, hoping it would stop the Great Saiyaman from displaying his rather awkward show. "But you sure have the right sound."

"Sound for what?" the Great Saiyaman said, making sure his voice sounded authoritative, placing his hands akimbo. Although he had seen his brother do this a million times before, it felt so awkward to him, it made him wonder whether his brother had ever felt like this when chasing across town, playing a hero.

"You have a rhythm that's really fitting. It's like a song, that is playing in my head. Who knew, the Great Saiyaman has the right sound?" Laughing, the youngster moved his hand across his brow, moving his strange forelock, revealing his friendly eyes.

Who knew! What was that supposed to mean?

His name was Jello, he was a bass player to a band named Oddball and they'd been looking for the right drummer for ages. Although Goten was still in his position as the Great Saiyaman, he ended up in a conversation with Jello that lasted till the sun was rising over the west side of the city. Perhaps a new friendship was just the thing he needed.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Trunks sat at his desk, which was piling up with an amount of paperwork that depressed him. The sun had risen only two hours ago and already he was at the office, preparing for whatever meetings his assistant had planned. He sighed. Involuntarily, he thought back of the time little over four or five months ago, when he had still been searching for the Dragon Balls with Goten. He had enjoyed his little break tremendously, as it had replenished his spirit to a degree he was able to hold out at the office. But for how long? He smiled, looking at a photo of him and Goten. Goten was his best friend, no matter how much they differed. There was nothing that could come between them, nothing that would ever be able to sever the bonds that tied them. He sat back, grinning. Regardless of whatever shitty job he was stuck in now, the thought of Goten brought a smile to his face. Gohan worried about Goten. Goten's mom worried. Everybody worried except Trunks. Trunks knew Goten well enough to know he was doing all right. Sure, Goten had loved Maxine. Maxine was probably his first true love, perhaps the only one. Perhaps, Goten would never be able to get over losing Max. But Trunks knew, Goten was stronger than anyone thought. Goten was flexible and tough. He could take whatever beating, whatever blow he got to his spirit. Goten could take it all. Trunks admired this trait and it made him proud to be his friend. Goten was a good friend. And he knew his Great Saiyaman act was not some search for distraction. He did it because it was what Maxine wanted. It had nothing to do with pain, distraction or looking for a place to belong. Goten did this because he wanted to, because he liked to, because he knew it would make Maxine smile. Did that make it some pathetic attempt to honour Maxine? Trunks was convinced this wasn't the only reason. It was perhaps the trigger but not the gist of it. Trunks smiled. Goten was doing better than most people thought. Devastation simply didn't seem to exist in Goten's vocabulary. This time, Trunks' smile grew wider. Many words didn't exist in Goten's vocabulary and his friend's simplicity made his other traits all the more loveable. Today was going to be a good day, Trunks knew, regardless of the amount of paperwork his assistant was going to bring in. When Mrs. Skivvy entered with a freight of paperwork and files, Trunks fell backwards in his chair, onto the floor. His face appearing over the edge of his desk, he looked at the photo of him and Goten again and gathered the strength he needed to work through the towers of paper that reached all the way to the ceiling, with Mrs. Skivvy standing behind them, as he could see her hazel eyes hiding behind big glasses, her painted lips, and wrinkled mouth in between the stack of files and documents.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She realized the armour she wore was Saiyajin. It fitted like a glove, it felt natural. She felt strong, and a strong desire woke inside of her, lusting for a kill more than she had in a very long time. Sometimes, her eyes wouldn't be able to register all colouration, as if it were some sort of malfunction. Aera was shackled in the centre of the arena, for whatever dramatic purpose, Yamuna Tacra did not care much. The ground shook, from the stomping feet of the audience and something else, something she could not identify. She never held the Crothians for much of an engineering people but the moment the speakers started to ring and the monster appeared through the wide entrance that rose in front of her, she changed her mind. What was this creature? She understood, upon seeing him, why they named him the Giant.

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A/N: these chapters may be short but they sure are easier to write in this format. Any objections?


	42. Tale 39 The Giant Failure?

**BOOK IV**  
**"Love And Hate Come Through The Same Door"**

Tale Thirty Nine---The Giant Failure?---**  
Rating: T**

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

She heard the filth that passed for Crothian king laugh at her. She was sure the laughter was directed at her because not soon after he was finally done displaying his sadistic titter, he spoke to her. This was all too familiar, and the thought of Darken crossed her mind.

"You do understand I won't enjoy your downfall before our Giant, hm?" he said with more than but a trace of cruelty in his voice.

She decided to spare her energy but to waste it on pointless jabber. She looked at him, showing a pitiless smirk. She enclosed one hand around the other's wrist, feeling the strength of her armour, relishing in the moment right before the kill. She had missed this. Oh, how she had.

The Askran Zoria ignored her, smiling wider. "It would surely cost me to see you, or your human friend go. Why, the last human I kept in my collection died twenty years ago—"

"Sixteen, Lord King Askran Zoria," the fatass king's left-hand suggested.

"Sixteen what?" the king wondered impatiently as he'd turned towards his subordinate.

"It's been sixteen years, Lord King Askran Zoria," his subordinate told him accordingly, bowing before his master the Lord King. Yamuna Tacra folded her arms, her impatience growing. The Giant did the same.

"Sixteen years since what? My last bath? I know that," the king disputed.

"Sixteen years ago your last captive human died, Lord King Askran Zoria."

"…" Zoria touched his face in thought. "I knew that." The king turned his attention back to the arena. He blinked. "Get back in your positions, dumbasses!" he barked at his guards, at the Giant and at the Saiyajin warrior at the centre of the arena, tediously kicking up dust. The Giant's foot connected with Yamuna Tacra's back and she ate dirt before she realized.

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"So Jello," the Great Saiyaman said as he took a sip from his coffee. "What were you doing in a place like that at a time… well… like that?"

The youngster at the other end of the table smiled at him. "Just hanging out."

"At a place like that… and a time… like…?" Goten said, still wearing his disguise, drinking from behind the blinded pane of his helmet which clouded over by the hot damp, rising from the cup he held in one hand.

"Uhuh," Jello replied as he drank from his coffee.

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Gohan drank from his coffee, not noticing much of what happened around him. Pan didn't eat her breakfast with her usual zest. After having dug through half of her second serving, she sat back and let out a sigh. Gohan didn't pick up on his daughter's hint to talk and continued to read his newspaper. Videl turned towards her child from the kitchen counter, stirring a small porcelain spoon in her tea.

"Anything the matter, cookie?" she asked.

Pan shrugged her shoulders, shoving the bowl of cereals further away from her. "Kaasan," she began, then looked at her mother for assurance. "Do you ever dream?"

"Well, as a child I dreamt of becoming the best martial artist who ever lived, why?" Gohan looked up from his paper briefly, glancing at his wife. He smiled, then continued to read.

"No, not that kind of dreaming," Pan stated. "I mean… nightmares of sort." Again, Gohan looked away from his daily, opening his mouth to speak. Videl beat him to it. "You have nightmares?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Pan said. "…" She stood from her chair and grabbed her blue backpack to head for school. "Forget I said anything. It's nothing."

Pan was far too young to speak like that. It wasn't the nightmares that worried Videl, it was the way Pan told her to forget about them. Gohan took another sip, flipping a page.

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She got up quickly, her teeth bared, growling, steaming mad. How _dare_ that artificially enhanced thirty foot whatever it was? Her scowl grew deeper once she realized he was taking out his energy on Aera. Aera didn't seem able – or willing, whatever – to fight the Giant off. Yamuna Tacra took a dash, and dove for the Giant's heel, only to realize the foul thirty-footer had conjured some sort of force field to keep her at bay. How dare he? Oh, she'd show him!

She gathered her energy, focusing it into a small ball of chi. She noticed her strength had increased dramatically as the ball was now far bigger than her head, where before it had been about half the size of her hand. She smirked. He was not going to like this. She moved her free hand over the ball of chi, making it grow finer and hold a greater density. This was the kind of energy she had refined purely for the very few healer idiots who thought they could outsmart her by conjuring an energy field. She wondered for the slightest of a moment why Aera wasn't conjuring a similar field to protect her from the Giant. Perhaps she wasn't able to?

The Saiyajin woman released the blast the very instant she was able to. This should at least shatter his force field, if not himself also. The sphere connected with the energy field and everything proceeded as planned, except that the field was still up. She understood the field hadn't disappeared when she ran into it and felt a surge of energy sizzle through her, making her convulse and cry out in pain. Aera was taking the greater deal of the beating, unable to move yet she seemed to be holding up quite well in spite of it.

How the hell could she fight a monster if he was hiding in some shell, beating up some helpless wench unable, unwilling to defend herself? Yamuna Tacra roared, releasing a series of smaller blasts, which were all pointlessly absorbed in the force field. She huffed, grinding her teeth. "Coward! Fight _me_!" the Saiyajin shouted with furious incapability.

The king snickered, and although it filled her with unease to look away, she turned her attention towards him. She glared and uplifted herself with her chi, to level with the Askran Zoria. "If it's a fight to the death you want," she sneered. "You got it." She lunged for him, with but the same meagre result she got when she surged for the Giant, a force field blocking her way. She fell to the dusty arena ground, and screamed, more in frustration than pain. " What the hell do you want, Crothian scum?"

The king laughed. "I want a Super Saiyajin, of course!"

She collected herself again, pushing up from her knee. Her body felt scorched but she didn't give in to the pain she was in. She kept her glare focused on that so-called king of all these filths gathered at the arena. "You think killing some meaningless human will do the trick for you, Zoria?" she said with a impertinent tone of voice. "You got it wrong. Besides…" She started to collect her power. "That stupid wench isn't even fully human."

"Ha!" the Askran Zoria retorted. "Prove it."

"Be careful what you wish for, king," she said with a contemptuous laugh.

"I said prove it! Festering Saiyajin!"

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"There you are!" a voice said. The voice belonged to a young boy, whose hairdo was probably as strange as the one he'd addressed the words to. The Great Saiyaman looked at the boy, whose hair was some odd shade of green, cut into a Mohawk. His skin was as dark as Jello's, as were his eyes. Apart from the haircut, they looked alike.

"Pie!" Jello said. "What are you doing in this part of town by yourself?"

"I'm not on my own," the boy replied. "Stu is outside, having a smoke." The boy tugged on Jello's black shirt. "Let's go." Goten watched them from behind his protective helmet, securing his identity as the Great Saiyaman.

"Not so fast, little brother," Jello urged. "First I want you to meet someone."

"But what about Stu?"

"Forget about Stu. Stu can wait outside." Jello flipped his bangs back, grabbed his brother by the arm and sat him down. "Meet the Great Saiyaman, Pie. He's our new drummer."

"Our new what?" Pie exclaimed.

"Your new what!" Goten echoed.

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The indistinct time she'd spent in her dungeon, Yamuna Tacra had often tried to speak with Aera. The healer however, often refused to speak openly, for whichever vague reason. At the time, Yamuna Tacra had not thought much of it, and it had annoyed her. One morning, she recalled, the Healer spoke to her mind, and somehow managed to gradually teach her to do the same. She still wasn't too good at mind-speak, or whatever it was called but she was sure enough she'd be able to connect to the Healer wench and let her in on her plans to disrupt the force field.

This was a rather powerful, perhaps complex kind of energy field. Had the Giant conjured it? Yamuna Tacra wasn't too sure he had. The Giant seemed rather dumb. It held a big, double bladed axe in one claw, yet seemed to prefer kicking Aera instead of simply beheading her. The Saiyajin knew an axe like that could do its dirty job in but a few measly seconds. What was keeping the Giant? Was he really that stupid or was he playing some peculiar game?

:_Healer! Transform!_: the Saiyajin said to Aera through telepathy. She still wasn't really able to form entire sentences but felt this was more than sufficient.

Aera did not reply. They looked at each other from between the Giant's legs, as if the force field wasn't there. Aera shook her head. Angrily, Yamuna Tacra nodded, convincing the pale girl it was the only way. Aera let her head hang in the shackles that kept her. She closed her eyes.

She could never say no to the killer creature, murdering her family, her loved ones, and caging her in this unholy life. There were too many secrets, too many lies. She could not make it right. Aera kept her eyes closed. _Murass-sama. Murass-sama, please. I will never be pristine. I will never be pristine again. I will never be good enough, strong enough, right enough. Murass-sama. Murass-sama, where are you? I cannot do this on my own. I cannot do this. _She felt the dragon roar, bellowing inside of her. It screamed and lashed out and she felt the power tower high over her, in blue golden wings that clasped together like an embrace, energy surging, gushing out of her haphazardly. Shackles were torn, falling to the ground with a dull clash. Aera let out a shriek but felt it muffle against the roar of a beast she had chosen to awaken for reasons she refused to acknowledge. She could not control this beast, she could not call it back to her mind and body that normally caged it. The dragon was stronger this time, bore more fury, more rage. Eyes of golden looked up and about, looked down. Another cry was heard, and she felt air pour out of her, like a storm that caught up unexpectedly. _No. This must stop! I cannot do this! Murass-sama, help me! Murass-sama, guide me. Murass-sama, please. Please, please…_

Yamuna Tacra staggered backwards at the power displayed before her. The Giant stood tall, unmoving, absorbing the energy that erupted from the draconic creature that could not match its size but came close still. The Saiyajin had never felt a surge of supremacy this strong. The energy that emanated from Darken didn't even come close to this kind of chi. Was it even chi? It felt so lifeless, it felt as if not of this world. Was this Aera's dragon? It couldn't be! Aera's dragon was a friendly one, one the healer wench was able to control. Then what in the name of Murass was this? And where the hell was Murass anyway?

The Giant turned towards the compelled Saiyajin and the latter looked up, looking into the machine's eyes. Its eyes radiated, glowing. Was it smirking at her? Again, the dragon, suspended behind the Giant on lustrous wings, howled.

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"So, what do ya say, Great Saiyaman?" Jello said with a grin. The man's younger brother looked almost as confused as Goten, though the latter was able to hide it behind his head covering.

"Hm, I don't know," the Great Saiyaman said. "The Great Saiyaman is not politically engaged. Joining some music group would compel…" Goten stopped mid-sentence. How would Gohan say this? He'd gotten it down this far but now what? Gohan always knew what to say! How was he going to get himself out of this? The Son let his head hang for a minute, pondering with confusion. He sighed.

"Okay, what the heck. I can at least give it a try?" he said eventually.

"Great! That's settled then!" Jello said, showing a peace sign. His kid brother simply stared, still not really getting any of it.

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The Giant kept its artificial eyes locked on the Saiyajin girl. Slowly, by the rythmn of the dragon wings that clasped behind it, the Giant opened its robotic mouth.

"You will die, Saiyajin."

Only because Yamuna Tacra was on guard she could see the dragon's beak move. "You will die," it said to her. What? How was any of this possible? What had these foul monsters done to Aera? The Saiyajin looked about her, wondering what to do, whom to address her words of anger and confusion to. She could hardly sense the blade of an axe wielded above her, landing, and she jumped out of the way, barely able to steer clear from the sharp end of the massive weapon. The Giant's feet shifted, and she knew he wasn't done attacking just yet. What in the name of Murass was going on? She screamed as the axe came down again, skimming her carmine hair. She wasn't sure what to think as the winged, sapphire creature moved in unison with the Giant like some messed up dancer.

"Healer! Damnit, snap out of it!" she shouted.

"You will die for your insolence," the dragon's voice thundered in unison with that of the Giant. What kind of trickery was this? Again, Yamuna Tacra dove out of the way, this time flanked by the spiked tail of a beast she thought her friend.adHasHnnfkfkf

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A/N: Aera, the pacifist no more? We definitely need more Briefs family story-time in ensuing episodes. I've been focused on the Sons too damn much. Expect some Muten Roshi in the next chapter, too.


End file.
